Other Lives
by Uberscribbler
Summary: Kara Thrace died five years ago. Now she and Lee Adama will relearn how to live, and to love. AU set pre-attacks. NOW FINISHED!
1. Target Acquisition

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**_Disclaimer and Denouncement: _**_I don't own any of the characters; they're the intellectual and legal property of Universal, R&D TV, and Glenn Larson. This is all for fun and no material profit. Don't bother suing; my debt to income ratio is godsawful._

_This was inspired by author Nancy777ca's seminal work "Strawberry Wine". It posits similar circumstances as portrayed there, but is its own tale and not a re-write or AU version. In terms of timeline, the central story takes place roughly three years prior to the Cylon's attack on the Colonies; Kara Thrace is a few weeks shy of her 24th birthday, Lee Adama is 26 and a half. Lee has been in the Colonial Fleet for five years now and is about to be promoted to Captain, while Kara hasn't been in uniform for over four years._

Lee Adama would never know what possessed him to take leave that day, never mind take the shuttle to Sparta and choose to wander the Embankment rather than Riverwalk in Caprica City (as had been his original plans). Certainly, it hadn't been for the scenery, such as it was, or the wares of the various sellers and stalls.

Major Corel had been surprised and not-too-quietly pleased when Lee had asked for 24-hour pass to go planetside. He'd actually been so pleased he'd mistakenly issued a 48 hour one instead and a pointed directive to "enjoy himself". Gods knew he had more than enough leave built up from the past four years, and the fact the _Atlantia _was in skydock meant he wouldn't be beyond easy reach should the need arise.

Lee didn't mind really, although he had yet to call his mother or Zak about the change; no one in fact knew where he was right then. He carried his pocket wireless with him just in the event he was needed_._

He wandered around the poor man's market with ease and anonymity, which was a small mercy.

Otherwise, someone would ask why the eldest son of William Adama had his hands around the neck of much younger man, apparently intent upon strangling him.

"Gahk," the freckle-faced youth barely old enough to have to shave once a month choked out around the two very strong sets of fingers.

"Where? Did? You? Get? _This_?" Lieutenant Lee Adama asked, each word a demand. 'This' was a leather portfolio, unexceptional in all ways except for two stylized letters embossed on its cover.

He knew of only one such portfolio decorated in such a way and with such characters, as it had been his own commission to have it specially made. Two month's wages had been the cost, although its true worth was greater than any material price conceivable. Or so he'd thought at the time.

Strangely, he hadn't thought about it in some years. Indeed, if he had been asked about the item before that moment, his only answer would have been a blank look.

There was a distant voice inside his head that sanely advised him to let the boy speak if he wanted answers. It very nearly went unheeded, and only discipline ingrained into him by the last five years gives him rationality enough to follow the advice. That same discipline had saved his life many times over the same period, preventing him from eating the barrel of his side arm as he sometimes felt the urge to.

Loosening his grip enough to allow the boy to pant clean air, Lee leaned in close and said, "I only want to know where you got it. Tell me that, and nothing more will happen."

"I -- I -- bought it --" The boy was clearly terrified, as well he should have been. Lee had calmly piloted his Mark VII through a category four storm system over Aerilon with only one engine firing; but then and there he doubted even his formidable self-control could hold much longer.

"You bought it from where?"

"A store on --" Lee's fingers curled back around his neck, the lie nearly too much for him.

"Liar," Lee heard a voice that couldn't have been his hiss.

"Mister, please!" the boy begged. "I'm from Gemenon --" The plea nearly went unheard, save that another's voice suddenly overlaid it. A girl's voice, no less terrified, no less desperate.

It was _her_ voice he heard, prompting him to wrench his hands away.

Blinking hard, clenching his teeth harder still, Lee tried again. "All I want to know is where you got this from." His voice is calmer now, his shoulders somehow relaxing as he spoke. The boy's words filtered through, ugly implications coming with them. Lee pulled his wallet out and produced a handful of script notes. "I'll even pay you for the information, okay?"

The boy nodded, eyeing the notes hungrily but eyeing him with an equal amount of fear. _Smart kid_, Lee mused distantly from himself.

"I -- I got it, okay?"

"'Got' it?"

"Stole it, okay?"

Lee Adama hated violence; _hated_ it to the depths of his very soul. Despite his choice of profession, despite his rank and all his training, he had never found a reason to embrace or celebrate the taking of another's life.

Yet it took Lee Adama mustering all his will and all his emotional strength to keep from reaching out and snapping this boy's neck like a twig. In a flash, barely the blink of an eye, he envisioned ten _more _ways he could kill this boy for the crime he'd just admitted to. Another blink and Lee envisioned still ten more. He was almost dizzy from the speed and energy of his thoughts and the alien urges that come with them.

"Wh -- where?" he managed to ask, sounding at once groggy and high as a child's kite.

"Uh -- why d'you wanna know?"

"Because --" Lee started then stopped for a breath. "Because I'm looking for the -- for who you took this from." He had been perilously close to speaking blasphemous, ugly words the boy would not understand. Worse, the boy might have even agreed with them, not realizing that his life would be forfeit if he did so.

The gods must have felt generous that day, as the boy gave an address and quick directions to finding it. Apparently, the place in question was fairly close by. Lee repeated them all to ensure he had them correct; this was too important to risk taking a wrong turn anywhere.

Satisfied, he handed the boy the notes and took possession of the portfolio, letting the youth on his way and marching into the city.

* * *

The address turned out to be an apartment building barely four blocks in from the Embankment. Not a well-maintained one, the brick façade crumbling and far too many windows boarded up. Uncollected garbage swirled on the broken sidewalk outside, as did the stink from the runoff from the local sewer.

It made Lee almost physically sick to look at it, but not for its shabby appearance. Rather, he feared the interior would be every bit as bad, if not worse. This place had to be violating at least a dozen health codes.

But what he feared most was that he would find in there the person he has not dared think about, either in private and under any circumstances, for the last five years. He was not sure his heart - or sanity - could take it.

Lee squared his shoulders and stuck his hand into his pocket as casually as possible, conveniently brushing both his sidearm and pocket wireless. Despite the unplanned nature of this expedition, Lee was thankful he'd heeded the intuitive urge to bring both with him.

Pushing the front door open, Lee had to brace himself against the rush of stale air that hit him. He blinked once, and then marched inside. Seeing the two elevators were both out of service, he turned and ascended the nearby stairwell. The boy had not specified an apartment number per se, but had given a floor and relative location for the target.

Lee took the stairs two at a time. He didn't want to waste time, or give himself time to lose his nerve. He reached the fourth floor in short order and barely even panting, pausing only to mentally orienthimself to the boy's description. The apartment he wanted lay at the far end of the narrow hallway.

This time, Lee took his time walking, his normally clear head trying hard to swim through the morass of emotion that threatened to completely drown him. What would he say? What would he do? Tirades and shouting matches were unlikely to have positive effect, although he wondered if he really _wanted_ a positive outcome from this. Breaking a few bones for five years of agony and heartache could always be written off as proper response from Old Scripture.

Who was he kidding? There was only one way this could or would end. That was _if_ she was actually there, and _if_ he managed to get so much as a foot in the door, and _if _she didn't manage to get his gun from him and simply shoot him dead --

He found himself standing before the only door to apartment 402 before fully realizing it. For some reason, he found the cracked and untreated grains of the wood too fascinating to even think of adding to the damage to it by just knocking; or so he would tell himself later. The simple possibility that _she_ was on the other side of that simple barrier was enough to paralyze him.

This paralysis broke suddenly when a congested-sounding voice drawled a few feet away. "You gonna arrest 'er?"

"Excuse me?" Lee asked, summoning his best glare. It didn't appear to faze the pensioner who had spoken.

"You're military?" A pointless question, given he was in uniform and carrying a weapon. "You comin' t'arrest that one?"

"Eh?" Lee was still fighting for mental traction. "Arrest who?"

"Her, tha' lives there."

"Uh, no."

"Too bad," the pensioner shook his gray-topped head. "Tha' one could stand it."

Lee immediately folded both his hands behind his back, holding the portfolio firmly under one arm. He did this because he didn't want to give in to the ugly itch that had overtaken his right palm; the sort of itch one gets when the body wants to seize a weapon out of its holster and let loose a torrent of bullets.

Holding himself stiff and erect, Lee asked, "You work here?"

"Yup. Mah'na'jar and super --"

"Can you open this door, please?"

The man shuffled forward, an awkward limp making his approach appear all the more painful. "You sure you ain't arrestin' 'er?"

"I just need to talk to her."

This appeared to satisfy the man as he pulled out an expansive key ring and selected the appropriate one. The door creaked open and Lee calmly stepped inside; it was either that or he would kick the door off its hinges and rush in like a mad fool. A quick glare over the shoulder sent the older man scurrying away, leaving Lee to study his surroundings.

There was no one there, the rooms temporarily deserted. Again, a small mercy that Lee was grateful for; he needed time to study the terrain, devise his strategy, and ponder contingencies. The overall objective was no long in question.

One look, one sniff of that hovel of an apartment and he was more determined than ever to minimize the time spent there.

The front room for one thing contained nothing but a unbalanced coffee table, a sofa that should have been burnt, and a couple of folding chairs whose frames were pock-marked with rust. The single window allowed the late afternoon sunlight in only grudgingly, the grime clouding the glass's exterior side distorting the life-giving rays and gave the place an unsettled, sinister air. The walls were bare, the wallpaper yellowed and peeling away. He counted a small blessing in seeing no garbage or other detritus around.

Seeing nothing else of interest, Lee moved to the interior doorway and found himself in a still smaller room that contained a cot and thin mattress, a chest of drawers, and a window that cracked and missing in several sections; newsprint had been taped over the cracks and gaps, darkening the room a bit more. The noise of the city outside waffled in, breaking the otherwise stifling silence. There was nothing else.

It was there that Lee reflected on the many and unsupported assumptions he was making here. He'd simply assumed the portfolio (which he had yet to let go of) was the same one he'd gifted six years ago, just as he'd simply assumed the owner of it was the same person he'd so diligently (and unsuccessfully) sought to forget about.

Why the frak hadn't he asked the old man what the occupant's name was, or asked the boy if there had been anything inside the portfolio when he'd broken in and grabbed it? Either would have saved him a fair amount of worry and effort; or so he told himself as he stood there and contemplated the room.

Still and all, he was there now. He could at the very least conduct a search of the place, careful not to disturb what little there was, to at the very least tentatively establish whether his time had been wasted or not.

He began with the wardrobe drawers, finding the lower two empty. The second from the top yielded a handful of clothes, mainly military surplus pants, tanks, and a couple pairs of women's underwear. The clothes smelled as if they hadn't been washed in a few weeks.

The topmost drawer was almost empty as well, save for a small cigar box. Virgon Rollers, or so the box's exterior claimed; he couldn't remember her necessarily liking to smoke, certainly not cheap leaf like Rollers. He forcefully reminded himself it had been five years and like it or not people could and did change.

Picking up and opening the box, Lee frowned as noted there were three cigars left inside. His frown deepened when he set the box on the wardrobe's top, an odd sound coming from it he would have sworn was _not_ the sound of loose cigars. Opening the box again and dumping out the cigars, Lee shook it a couple times, listening carefully; faint, almost inaudible sounds of sliding and rattling confirmed there was something still inside it. He reached into it and tapped the bottom, allowing himself to grin in silent congratulations as he felt it shift slightly under his fingers.

It too a bit of doing, a bit of experimentation, but he was ultimately able to pry off the false bottom. With greater care than before, he emptied the hidden contents of the box next to the cigars.

It was six items total, each of them confirming all his impossible hopes and worst fears. The first thing to fall out was a music minichip, the handwriting on its label familiar in its near-illegibility.

The second item was a slightly tarnished insignia pin of an Active Flight Officer in the Colonial Fleet. This jibbed with rumors he'd only half-heard concerning her getting kicked out of the service entirely, only for those same charges to be reversed barely a month afterwards. The scandal had rocked the Academy's upper echelons sufficiently that getting her wings back was the very _least _she could demand. Even now, close to two years afterwards, Admiral Nagala would still quiz himself and his mother as to whether they had ever been in contact with '_her'_. Caroline Adama had as much difficulty saying her name as Lee himself did, though he suspected it was somewhat different reasons.

The third, fourth and fifth objects were photos. Of these, he could stand to look only at the first, eyes misting in both relief and disbelief at the sight of himself and one other there taken seven years ago.

But it was the final item nearly sent him to the floor. The sight of a slender platinum band crowned with a tiny diamond landing in his palm hit him with the force a free-falling battlestar. He actually staggered backwards, the ring clutched in one hand, landing atop the mattress nearby. The frame groaned under his weight, but the mattress itself -- crackled?

His shock momentarily forgotten, Lee swiftly stood and stared at the makeshift bed. A thought hit him almost immediately. _If_ the boy's claim was true, _if_ his suspicions about what happened were accurate --

He pocketed the ring in his jacket pocket and pulled up the mattress. He patted the underside several times, feeling for -- ah, there it was, a cut in the material, one loosely (deliberately so) sewn shut. "Clever," he nodded appreciatively.

Lee grinned, not excited but rather more nervous at what might be hidden there. He took a breath and eased his hand into the cut, fingers almost immediately encountering something other than foam filling. Specifically, what felt like a bundle of paper. He gently extracted the handful, the _large_ handful, of papers and went over to the window, as it was the only source of illumination in the room.

There was no surprise felt at what pages depicted: himself in repose, nude. He recalled the pose involved vividly, and quickly paged through the rest of the pages, alternately relieved that he could recognize most if not all of them, and appalled that so many were crumpled or had needed to be taped back together.

If someone had desecrated and defaced the masterworks of Aphrodite and Artemis in Dome Temple at Teegarden, Lee doubted he would be a hundredth as upset. The boy from Gemenon would have much to answer for if he'd had anything to do with the damage done here.

Lee calmed himself and, after smoothing papers down as carefully as he could, he slipped them back into the portfolio that he'd unforgivably let slip from his fingers and onto the floor. He then picked up the minichip and pilot's insignia and dropped them into his breast pocket alongside the ring. The three photos presented a bit of a conundrum; the thought of folding them in any way made him feel ill. By the same token he was unwilling to risk them being taken from his person until he'd had words, a _lot_of words, with this place's resident. They fit snuggly into his breast pocket as well, although unfolded it would make it a tad difficult to pull them out again.

Those words would not be spoken _here_, however. Indeed, his immediate objective was to ensure a lot of distance was put between _them_and this tenement, not letting her out of his frakking sight until things were settled between them once and for all. He would accept no other outcome, and if that mean beating her unconscious and carrying her back to Caprica City, so be it.

This brought to mind another small issue: namely, where was he going to take her? Well, there was his house – barely more than a prefab shack with indoor plumbing – the one he'd bought five years ago and had been keeping payments on all this time. He hadn't spent more than three or four days a year there, so likely as not it needed some cleaning out before it was fit for habitation. His mother would of course insist they stay with her until that was done, so no worries there.

No, those weren't the _real _worry, Lieutenant Lee Adama reflected as he sat himself on a rusted and unstable chair in the front room; the immediate worry was how to ensure that objective was to be reached. He set the portfolio on the coffee table, and then holstered his sidearm. Deftly removing the firing pins from the weapon, he settled the now-disarmed gun atop the other item and sat back. There was every chance his temper would get the better of him when he saw her, and certainly vice versa. The very least he could do was ensure the encounter between them wouldn't result in a terminal shooting match.

Broken bones, split lips, and bloodied eyes on the other hand? He wouldn't wager against such things.

He took breath through his mouth (the sofa and threadbare carpet and musty walls all reeked) and leaned forward, elbows on knees, staring at the apartment's door. Lee remained utterly still sitting there, only occasionally glancing at his watch or over his shoulder at the dying daylight.

In contrast to his outward stillness, his thoughts were once again racing. Mainly, he was concerned with what he was going to say to her when she finally appeared, however soon that was. There were a thousand and one things he considered, only to reject each of them nearly out of hand as too inane ("_Hey, Kara. Long time no see_."), to the too aggressive ("_Hey, Kara. Long time no see, you bitch_."), to the simply suicidal ("_Hey, Kara. C'mon, we are going home. Now!_").

The twilight had nearly fallen and he still had no opening he was comfortable with. Lee couldn't help but silently berate himself once again for not asking the old man if he knew what business she was in these days or what hours she kept now. For all he knew, she was off-planet doing shuttle runs to the _Astral Queen_ and her sisters.

At length, he gathered up his weapon and the portfolio, intending to seek out the building's superintendent to get some further intel. There wasn't any sense in just sitting there without at least some sense of how long --

That was when the door clicked and opened. Lee felt himself tense and sit straighter, fists clenching, then unclenching and resting on his knees. Rage spiked at the sight of the slender figure in military cast-offs stumble in as if drunk. Despite the gathering shadows of the dying light, despite the unkempt appearance, there was no doubting who stood there.

Kara Thrace. The woman he'd proposed to. The woman he'd loved. The woman who had run from him.

"Hey, Kara." his vocal chords worked out on their own, amazingly reflecting none of his internal turmoil. This greeting was more than enough to make the figure stop and look up.

That's when Lee saw her hair matted dark, and how her left eye was almost swollen shut.

Swollen, bloodied lips moved as if trying to form words, her visible eye rolling upwards as the rest of her simply collapsed to the floor.

"Kara!" Lee screamed, rage drained from him as he vaulted over the sofa to kneel beside her. There was an unhealthy rattle to her labored breathing, each breath accompanied by a stream of dark bubbles issuing from her damaged lips. "Oh, gods, please no no no no --" Lee muttered, momentarily torn between wanting, _needing_ to take her in his arms and blind fear he might injure her further.

He did a quick visual inventory – battered face, blood on her shirt and pants, but no immediately visible gunshot or stab wounds – and carefully felt her neck. Her pulse was there, but thin and irregular. Panic reached such fever pitch within him his thoughts and senses attained a strange crystal clarity.

Reaching to his belt, Lee pulled out his pocket wireless and flipped it open. Cradling Kara's head in his lap he dialed Emergency Services. The instant a connection opened he calmly reported, "This is Lieutenant Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet ID 923753. I have a badly injured Fleet Officer with me; multiple impact traumas with possible internal bleeding and lung damage. Our location is --"

He spoke all this on automatic, listening attentively to the clipped tones that advised him not to move the injured and that medical services were five minutes away.

"Kara," he murmured quietly, stroking her battered face and sticky hair. "Kara, don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

He continued reciting this mantra even after the paramedics arrived, even when they were riding in the ambulance, even when they reached surgery and the multiplicity of her injuries were shouted.

At some point, an attendant took him aside, asking useless questions for useless paperwork that were answered again on automatic. "Karissa Antigone Thrace -- age, uh, 23 or 24 -- Colonial Benefits number 934854487 -- birth world Picon -- blood type alpha-negative -- I don't know what happened to her -- no living relatives I know of -- she's my fiancée -- No, I don't know who did this to her -- she's been missing for five years --"

He answered more questions, barely conscious of them anymore.

All his attention, all his mind and heart and soul, lay in the operating theater beyond doors he was barred from crossing.

His only thought during all this time was the same plea repeated over and over: _Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me --_

_TBC...when you hit the arrow button!_

* * *

**De Author Seez: **Re-reading the original version of this I realized Lee knew a bit more than he should have, hence the reposting. Sorry if it got everyone excited. On the up-side, I'm doing this in conjunction with posting Part 17. Hope you enjoy it.

_Want to learn more? Read on..._**BATTLESTAR GALACTICA:  
OTHER LIVES**_Prelude: Five Years Ago_

* * *

The day Kara Thrace died had been the happiest of her nineteen years of life.

Three things had made it so.

The third and last event to happen had been saying her farewells to her mother. Strangely, wishing the gods to grant peace to the woman who had birthed her and almost destroyed her soul gave Kara herself a peace and calm unlike any she'd otherwise known. Only one other experience, practiced with one other soul, could equal it.

The first thing to happen had been receiving the acceptance letter from the Fleet Flight Academy on Picon. She'd feared her scores would have relegated her to attending the Marshfields over on Tauron, where the Fleet sent its reservists and borderline washouts.

This was very good news on many levels, not the least of which was that she'd be not only on the same planet but also in literally the same facility as the one she was utterly convinced possessed half her soul. By rights, nothing should have been able to top this news.

However it had been the second event of the day that left her floating. Her nerves had been so shot in anticipation of being either accepted or rejected from the Fleet Academy, added to which her appetite and sleeping patterns so badly disrupted from having to spend a full week without the company of a very specific person for the first time in nearly two years. She'd gone to the local clinic about these difficulties; despite having been put on the other person's benefits plan, Kara had never been comfortable claiming it and so avoided doing so.

It turns out it wasn't nerves at all. And while the news meant her flight training would need to be delayed a year, the news also changed everything for the better. Kara believed this with all her heart. The small keepsake she'd requested from the technicians, which resided now in her pocket, was perhaps the most precious thing she'd ever own.

But Kara was clear-headed enough to know it was not hers alone. It was a bond, something that bound her to her other half in ways that would never be broken; even the ring adorning her finger and all it represented paled in comparison.

Knowing she would be going to Picon and learning to fly, receiving news she once would have dreaded, and leaving the most bitter and hurtful piece of her past behind; all these things together set her heart free-flying, bathed in the glowing hope for her future.

Those hopes were dashed as a delivery truck chose the same moment as she was crossing a street outside her mother's hospice to run the lights. It sent her body flying through the air as wildly as her heart had been but moments ago.

And like any uncontrolled flight, she crashed to the ground, not knowing until later all those hopes were crushed before she'd even landed.

* * *

Part One: Target Acquisition.


	2. 12 Hours Earlier

_Part Two: Twelve Hours Earlier_

The day began with a loud crash as someone ended an argument by throwing something against a wall somewhere. At least this time it wasn't a gunshot.

Kara would have normally slept through it, having properly 'medicated' herself into a drunken stupor the night before. That, sadly, had been how she'd lost her portfolio folder. It was one of the fourteen things she gave a damn about in all the worlds, and the fact it had been stolen out from under her drunken nose was reason enough to cut back.

The fact she was running out of script didn't hurt there either. Mechanic and driving jobs weren't that hard to come by; the challenge in these parts was making sure the clients were willing to pay up front and _not_ try to slip a knife into your back once the work was done. The last year had seen a serious downturn in her luck there, especially since Solly had gotten his fool ass killed. She'd been roaming since then, getting just enough work through reputation to stay alive, but that was _it_ otherwise.

She pulled herself upright with a groan. The racks in the Academy were a thousand times more comfortable than the cot she'd swindled. Given it was still summer, she didn't need a blanket or sheets. That would change in a few weeks with the shift to early winter. She'd been lucky in that the last couple of years, but that too seemed have seen a downturn as well, what with the break-in and how she had to deal with shadier and shadier elements just to eat these days.

Despair had been a nearly-constant companion for her since...it...happened. The gods had decreed she suffer for the sin of being alive, and who was she to deny them their due? Momma had been right about that if nothing else. Why the frak she hadn't just walked into another truck or eaten a bullet at this point was a mystery. Well, a partial mystery at least: there was still some stubborn strand within her that demanded the gods do their own dirty work.

If they wanted Kara Thrace dead, they'd have to kill her _themselves_. Or at least have someone else do it for her. Kara herself wasn't sure if she'd fight it if and when it finally happened.

Even so, she rose and stretched. It never ceased to amaze how, despite her vagabond lifestyle now, she had retained her fit figure. Sleep, search out work, doing work, eating cheap junk, and more sleep were all that her life consisted of since the day she'd filed that harassment complaint against Major Lake at the Academy and been unceremoniously kicked out.

Looking back on it, she realized it was an undeserved blessing in disguise. She'd heard enough gossip to know that, had it not been for Lake's presumption she was as easy a mark as gods knew how many other cadets, she'd have been fast-tracked through the Officer Training Course and moved directly to the War College. The chances she'd then encounter...him...would have then risen dramatically to the point of absolute certainty.

No, she'd done enough damage to the Adama family. The gods had seen fit to punish her for the crime of loving someone beyond her station in a way that couldn't be misunderstood.

She was surprised they hadn't punished her again, at least as directly, for holding so many keepsakes of that time. Sometimes it was nearly enough to get her to fantasize that it _hadn't_ been her fault at all, and that she'd still be welcomed back by..._him_...

That particular fantasy always seemed to sneak up on her just after she'd woken, another reason she preferred medicating herself with alcohol before turning in for the night. Morning hangovers - the worse, the better - did a great job of keeping that daydream at bay. Just like it managed to block out any dreams that might visit during the night; dreams that more often than not involved him and put a happy gloss on that time.

Last night had been probably the worst of them all, as Morpheus had treated her to a very vivid, crystal-clear story of her wedding day and night. Likely as not she'd actually been moaning aloud in the waking world, because gods knew she'd been actively screaming throughout their first night as husband and wife. The years before weren't even a fraction as passionate.

Maybe, Kara reflected bitterly, she'd lost it so badly and embarrassed herself so completely the gods would decide they didn't need to continue to torture her. Maybe, but she doubted it.

Having reassured herself that the day would not be different from any other, Kara dressed herself in the least-unpleasant clothes she could find within her minimal wardrobe. She really ought to launder them, if only so she wouldn't be immediately turned away from work based on smell alone; she didn't dare make use of the floor's single shower except twice a week, and even then only during the daylight hours.

This single chore done, she looked at the top drawer of the bureau, all but daring herself to open her keepsake box. It was another silent ritual she put herself through daily, though what purpose such self-inflicted torture escaped her; didn't the gods do that enough?

Ultimately and like the many days before, she opened the drawer and reached into the box, but only to extract a couple of the cigars within it. The real treasure contained within it, she was resolved that she wouldn't look at it until the day she died.

Her morning routine done, Kara Thrace exited her latest and likely temporary home. Settling a work cap on her cropped head and lighting up one of the cigars, she set off into the city. Of late she'd found cigars to be an excellent, and increasingly necessary, appetite suppressant. The only problem with them was she couldn't smoke them in the municipal libraries she frequented when she wasn't working; even though she'd been kicked out of the Fleet didn't mean she couldn't keep up on her technical reading.

One of Solly's old contacts had reached her the previous day about a maintenance job and given a berth number at the municipal spaceport. Hopefully the job was still there and paid market rates.

But Kara Thrace had learned some time ago that hope was a cruel and unpredictable bitch, and definitely not something to be trusted.

* * *

The job was indeed still there and, better still, had involved only some modest work on the engines of a couple of civvie shuttles. Urich, Solly's contact, had recognized her at once and all but dragged her over to the ships. He'd explained the situation quietly and promised a sizable bonus if she could set to it the work was finished before day's end.

Apparently the shuttles were owned by one of the new trade consortiums that had been popping up lately, and they didn't want their investors to get the idea their money had been spent on cheap spacecraft whose engines didn't work right.

It only took an hour and a half to clear out tylium filters and recalibrate the atmospheric drives on each engine. She counted her blessings the difficulties weren't worse than that. Kara was surprised to see how that was the extent of it, musing to herself why Urich hadn't simply done it himself.

* * *

Later, she would mentally kick herself for not figuring out why she'd been hired for the job, never mind why the pay was so much better than it warranted.

* * *

While she'd been working, Kara had noticed ground crews (at least who she presumed were ground crews) stayed busy around the shuttles themselves. She didn't pay it too much attention as exchanging tylium filters within the guts of a Marcal Twelve's vapor engine wasn't the easiest procedure do to by hand, a least not without partially dismantling the damned thing beforehand. Urich's promise of a bonus however kept her from saying to Hades with it and doing the job the recommended way.

At some point, likely mid-day since everyone but her was eating take-out of some kind, one of the crewmen wandered over to her just as she was replacing the last filter on the first engine. He approached and knelt down cautiously, which was wise given circumstances. "Um, hello?" was his opening line. Not the worst one she'd ever heard; the last one who'd used it had been…

Kara ruthlessly strangled that thought in its cradle. Then stomped on its rhetorical skull. "Frak off," she grunted, straining to slip the last filter into place.

"I brought you this," the man said, setting an unopened take-out bag nearby, just within arm's reach by her. He then drew back a step.

"Thanks. Now frak off," Kara grunted, refocusing needlessly on simple task putting the housing panel back on.

"You can call me Leo."

Kara felt herself freeze for a moment. It wasn't his name, she knew that. And it sure as hell wasn't _him_. But it was close enough to catch her off. The underside of the shuttle suddenly, ridiculously, got too claustrophobic to remain there. She was scrambling out from under and getting to her feet, staring at her new friend.

True, he wasn't much to look at. Between the mismatched work clothes, shining eyes and spiky blond hair that should have just been shaved off completely he normally would not have merited a second glance on the street. He sure as frak hadn't caught her fancy earlier.

She, apparently, had caught his. Why was a mystery, alongside whatever prompted him to extend his hand to her and say, "Leo Conroy."

"Ka…Thrace," she ground out, taking his hand for the total of two seconds, then gazing uneasily (and hungrily) at the bag at their feet.

"No charge for that," Conroy stated with an easy smile that did not engender trust. "Really."

"Sure," Kara, wiping her hands on her already-dirt stained pants.

"Really," Conroy insisted.

"I said 'sure', friend." Any person with two brain cells to rub together would have recognized a conversation ender when they heard it. Leo Conroy was apparently short half the requisite number as he made no move to disengage. At least not immediately.

"Suit yourself, Kara," he shrugged and turned away. Before she knew it, Kara's own hand shot out and stayed him.

"What did you say?"

"I said, 'suit yourself'." Conroy shrugged, but didn't move further.

Kara felt her free hand clench into a tight fist, one she was quite ready to throw, work and bonus be damned. "How the frak do you know my name?"

"I, uh, overheard friend Urich." Like his smile, this was no more believable to her. Even more unbelievable was his next asking her "Is that short for 'Karissa' or 'Karina'? I can never tell."

Kara Thrace liked to think she had learned iron-clad control over her emotions since getting booted off Tauron and ejected from the Fleet. The only reason she'd taken posting in the Marshfields was so she could claim at least one thin, tentative, safely indirect connection to the Adamas. Major Artos Lake had taught her the folly of ever wanting anything for _herself_ in this life, hence her needing to learn to simply _not_ want, and therefore not _need_a godsbedamned thing.

'Not needing' required control, and Kara Thrace had learned to control herself very, very well. She could go for days without eating or sleeping as circumstances dictated. She could even tramp down her irrational, frankly senseless anger at this stranger who presumed liberties with her that would have once invited immediate bodily harm.

But since primary school, she'd accepted only one other person ever addressing her by her full given name; even Momma hadn't done so in since she was old enough to walk on her own. Hearing it was nearly enough to undo that hard-won control. The only thing that saved Leo Conroy from injury was his choosing that same moment to turn and walk away.

Kara gave him and his colleagues a narrow-eyed glare, then returned to her work. She picked up the take-out bag but made no move to open it. A little hunger, like any other pain, was good for the soul. A few more hours of a grumbling stomach certainly wouldn't kill her.

With a last glance over at Conroy and the rest, Kara eased herself under the second engine and the procedure she'd just perfected. She would glance out every now and then, as much to make sure her dinner was where she'd left it as to ensure the workmen were keeping a healthy distance.

* * *

It took most of the day, but ultimately she finished the necessary maintenance. Recalibrating the engines was actually far easier, thanks in part to her frequent trips to the library. Reading through those older technical journals finally paid off as she knew which redundant features could be safely ignored, thereby cutting the time needed by two-thirds.

The problem with this phase of the work was not that it was tedious, but more because the only involvement required on her part was simply to hit the 'Enter' button every time the diagnostic program paused and reset a line of code. It left her with too little distraction and too much time to think and wonder at circumstances.

Specifically she wondered why a trade consortium would invest scarce capital in a couple shuttles which clearly dated back to the First Cylon War that had been refurbished with vapor engines that were obsolescent. The Marcal Twelve's were good, reliable engines that had the poor luck of being over-engineered and prone to seize up if their filters weren't kept clean. Pretty much their only redeeming virtue was they left virtually no heat or EM signature while firing, which made them ideal for arms smugglers and other such contraband runners.

It didn't take much imagination to come up with illicit scenarios those ships might be put to. Solly, as far as she knew, had always steered clear of the sorts of commerce that paid in explosives under the seat rather than cubits in the bank. His death had been chalked up to faulty break-pads on his car; Kara herself had managed to get a look at the remains of his transport and had to admit the evidence bore this out. Certainly the damned fool had never taken care of his equipment during their acquaintance.

Urich in contrast was a relative unknown. Solly had only ever mentioned him in passing and rarely at that, usually leaving the implication he wasn't the sort of individual Solly wanted to have to work with. That wasn't necessarily a telling indictment, given Solly had given Kara herself the same treatment at times.

Still, the fact the work crews had been loading both ships up while she was fixing the engines left all sorts of suggestions she wasn't sure she wanted to investigate. Her falling out with the gods aside, she wasn't actively suicidal, not these days anyway, and wasn't inclined to seek out danger if it could be avoided.

That conundrum was abruptly resolved one of the pairs of crewmen managed to trip while hauling yet another container into the shuttle she was working on, spilling its contents onto the deck. Kara was in the midst of finalizing the on-board calibrations, and therefore had something else to focus on whereas she would have spun about at the sounds of delicate equipment being smashed. Clearly her sense of self-preservation had undergone a rebirth in recent years.

It was nevertheless an effort of will not to turn anyway. She bent down over her portable terminal and kept her eyes fixed on the small screen, studying the lines of 1s and 0s as if it were holiest scripture. Even so, Kara couldn't help but notice the pieces to an internal gyroscope, the sort used in the latest model of Viper, which rolled near her feet.

She prayed the half-breath-long pause this gave her didn't get noticed, even going so far as to look elsewhere for some switches to needlessly flick when one of the nameless workers came over to collect the instrument pieces at her feet. Sweat started beading her hairline as the workmen finished securing their cargo and left her alone.

For the first time in five years, Kara Thrace silently mouthed a prayer to the gods. "Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer..."

* * *

The sun was still above the horizon when the work was finished. Kara couldn't quit the shuttles or the hanger fast enough, somehow keeping calm enough that her speed wasn't readily apparent. Urich at least seemed sufficiently fooled that he just handed over a sizable roll of script notes and gave a pointed suggestion she not linger.

Kara took the suggestion to heart. Being no fool, she marched out the main entrance of the air field, even giving the overweight rent-a-guard at the booth a little wave. She was gratified beyond words when it was returned.

Night seemed to be falling faster than she anticipated on her way home. That or she was simply getting a tad paranoid about the shadows that were gathering in the dusk. In either case, Kara hurried her steps to reach her hole-in-the-wall apartment. It might not have bee the most secure location, but she was more familiar with its nooks and crannies than those she was nearly running through. Something told her she'd need secure walls around her and quick.

Unfortunately she really had no plan on how to secure her safety through the night. Piling up her minimal furniture over the front door and using the broken glass from her bedroom window as a personal weapon was frankly beyond insane as a plan. Nothing else came to mind...save a sequence of call-in digits she'd memorized years back. Provided they were still good...maybe she should consider...?

Kara Thrace immediately shook her head, so hard and fast she was nearly left dizzy. No! She'd done enough harm to the Adama family. Let the gods damn her, but they wouldn't take Lee or any of his family because of her shit!

Her feet continued running, the pace increasing by the second, until the building came into sight. The front door was unlocked as usual, thank Zeus and Hera both. Taking the stairs three at a time, Kara made it to the fourth floor in quick order, lingering only for a moment at the stairway to gaze down the hallway in either direction.

Sensing no movement anywhere nearby, Kara carefully stepped out, booted steps making not even the tiniest of sounds on the carpeting underfoot. The hallway's single light flickered erratically, which was nothing new and didn't give her but a moment's pause. She did take the common sense precaution of keeping her back against the wall and frequently checking back the way she'd come.

With her attention focused in so many directions, it hadn't occurred to her to literally watch her back as she moved. Specifically, it didn't occur to her that the door to apartment 401 would fall open behind her as she passed. The room had been empty for the last two moons and door (usually) locked tight.

Kara was given no time to recover as rough hands pulled at her, yanking her upright even as they damn near pulled both arms from their sockets. She kicked and struggled, only be rewarded with something solid slamming into her chest. A stick-bowl bat, her mind supplied uselessly.

Somebody's fist caught her just under her left eye, making her see stars and spit blood. Malnutrition and stress had seriously drained her energy reserves, another blow to the head leaving her in tailspin.

She therefore couldn't resist when one of her assailants (between the dark of the room and stunned senses, Kara had no way of gauging their number) wrapped a beefy arm around her neck, and squeezed. To her credit Kara resisted with what little strength she had left, clawing at the arm and throwing her head back, her skull connecting with what felt like a nose. It cost her another blow with the bat, but to her stomach this time.

Unconsciousness was quick to follow, although it was not the blessed, peaceful darkness Kara had hoped for. Rather it proved a blanket of fog that hid nothing of _what_came next, merely fuzzied up the details about who was doing _what_.

And the whole while, the stabbing pain visited on her inert body and still uglier words (both their's and Momma's) that were hissed into her ears were inescapable.

They simply vanished after they had their fun with her, leaving her there, body as broken as her soul had ever been.

* * *

The mental fog cleared a short time later. In its place was a host of physical aches and pains that ran from her bare toes (they'd pulled her boots off and clubbed her with them at one point), up along bare and now bruised legs (they'd tugged her pants and underwear off early on in the festivities, but hadn't done more intimate damage), throughout her abused and battered torso (they'd pulled off her jacket but hadn't used the bowl-bat after she'd collapsed; they hadn't needed to), all the way to her bloodied and barely-functioning head.

This was it then, she thought with surprising coherence and clarity. The gods decided it was her time to leave the stage. Good on them. Nemesis herself must have decided to direct her exit, because no death should be _this_ painful without intervention from on high.

Much as she would have liked to just lay there and expire, Kara remembered the single vow she'd kept to the last five years. She'd let herself look at _him…_no, at _both_ of _them_ one last time before the end.

Her arms were largely undamaged, merely sore from having been twisted all around, and so she was able to grope on and redo her pants. That however proves the extent of it; she was too weak and too weary, as much from her non-life as from the attack, to pull on more.

It didn't matter anyway. Her journey was a short one now. Just a few meters back to her little hovel, and a few meters beyond that to take a final look at her keepsakes. Then she could fall to the floor again and let Hades take her away. He could take her to Tartarus or Elysium, Kara no longer cared. She was just ready for it to be _over_.

This resolve, sad and pathetic as it may have been, gave her strength enough to hobble down the hallway and open her door. She needed an extra second to brace herself on the threshold, gathering the last dregs of energy to make to the bedroom.

A voice she would always recognize spoke to her from across the room. "Hey, Kara."

She looked up, trying to say the name of the dark wraith standing there. Perhaps the gods were simply so impatient for her passage that they decided to rob her last moments of sanity as well as hope. Certainly it was more likely than _him_ standing there.

Who was she to deny the gods their due? Her legs buckled and she let herself fall a final time; what she hoped was a final time.

But it wasn't Nemesis or Hades or even Zeus himself who spoke to her. It was the same voice as before, one whom she could not and would never deny. _He_ repeated the same words over and over.

_Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me …_

Over and over, the same plea.

A plea she heard and, despite herself, one she heeded.

After all, Hades did not come for her as expected. At times, she almost dreamt she could hear his chariot thunder _away_ from her, as if in retreat from one with a stronger claim. But who or what could stake such a claim upon someone as worthless as her that even the gods would not _dare_ contest it even when she herself invited them?

There was only one who _might_ have matched such description. But _he_ could not have been there with her. She'd run from him, broken a vow and surely had severed whatever connection had held them together as well damned her soul.

But the same plea she imagined in _his _voice echoed in her ears and mind and tattered soul, irresistible and undeniable.

_Please don't leave me!_

And so she stayed.

And, eventually, awoke back to life.

* * *

Kara had no idea how long she had entertained such thoughts, never mind been unconscious. She managed at length to crack open her uninjured eye, which roamed about her new environment and drank in what detail it could.

It was not surprising that she found herself lying in a hospital bed, bandages wrapping her tightly and tubes sticking into her arms. Everything else was…strange, unexpected even. The room was painted soft colors, unlike most recovery room she'd been in. The chair and table nearby weren't the typical cast-offs either but the sort you saw only on showroom floors. There were even a couple well-tended plants in the windows, their gossamer shades letting gentle light in.

The greatest surprise however was the -- person -- who was standing in the doorway, staring at her with the same mix of wonder and seriousness she'd come to expect from -- _him._

"Hey, Lee," she drawled, her tongue thick and voice drowsy. She had to be on some serious drugs if she was hallucinating like this --

That pleasant little lie lasted until Lee closed the distance between the door and the bed, bringing their lips together, the taste of their shared tears on both their tongues.

_This is real_, was her last thought before sleep, a true and healing sleep, swallowed her completely again.

_TBC…eventually._

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_First, let me assure my regular readers that YES, "Exodus Ends" WILL be finished. I'm writing this as a change of pace and because my Muse demands a change of pace for a bit. Hope you'll enjoy the ride as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I make no promises how often or size of updates. RL (in the form of a new pregnancy) is going to be taking up attention. _

_In the meantime, please don't be shy about using the Review button below! Please? Pretty please? I'm not above begging here._


	3. Damage Assessment

_Part Three: Damage Assessment_

It was hours after they'd wheeled her from the trauma bay into Surgery, gods alone knew how many, before one of the surgeons finally came to the waiting area. By that point Lee had drunk so many awful cups of over-brewed coffee he was starting to see double, although the approaching doctor - a red-haired, slender individual wearing a pristine white lab coat over dark blue scrubs that Lee could see were freckled with dark stains - gave him something clearer to focus on. Lee's conscious mind quickly shied away from contemplating what those stains might indicate.

The doctor zeroed in on him immediately. "Lieutenant Adama?" It was an understandably if superfluous question; Lee was the only one there at that hour.

"I'm Lee Adama," was his patient response.

"I'm Doctor Solon," the surgeon introduced himself with a hand extended. Lee took it carefully, resisting the urge to squeeze answers out of him. "I understand Ms. Thrace is your fiancée?"

"That's right."

"Well, Lieutenant, the good news is your fiancée is heading to recovery." Doctor Solon paused after saying this, watching Lee carefully.

Lee waited a beat before daring to ask, "Is there bad news?"

"I'm afraid so." Solon took a breath and placed a gentle hand on Lee's shoulder. "Let's, uh, let's sit down."

"I don't want to sit down," Lee growled, suddenly too angry to think straight. "Tell me what the frak happened to her."

"Well, where to start." Solon went over to the coffee urn and poured himself half a cup, Lee's eyes tracking him the whole time. "Lieutenant, I need to ask if you have any idea what happened to her."

"None," Lee answered honestly. "She -- Kara's been, well, missing for the last five years."

"'Missing' as in kidnapped?"

"No, no. Just -- missing." Now it was Lee's turn to sigh. "She moved suddenly, well, ran off really, just after we were engaged. I -- I never knew where to look for her..."

"And you found her just yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" Lee frowned, looking first at the clock on the wall, then the chronograph on his wrist. "Oh frak," he muttered, realizing his pass was due to expire shortly. That needed to be set aside for the moment however. "Yeah, yesterday. I found her. It was just dumb luck really."

"Okay. I'm sure the police will need to talk to you."

"Fine, fine. What about Kara?"

"It wasn't good, Lieutenant. Her left lung was punctured in two places when her floating ribs were broken. It collapsed during surgery..."

"Which means?"

"We had to put her on a ventilator to re-inflate it while we extracted the rib bones and repaired the damage. Unfortunately she suffered a cardiac arrest during the operation…" Lee felt himself sway slightly at hearing this. He'd seen enough combat action to understand what he was saying.

"_Lieutenant_," Solon continued forcefully, giving him a steady hand as he led them to a couple of chairs. "Lieutenant, she's okay. She made it through."

"Thank the gods," Lee breathed, fighting to keep composure.

"Yeah. We managed to repair both her lung and get her heart working again. Turns out there was also a fair amount of internal bleeding in her chest cavity and her stomach that we had to drain as well." The surgeon closed his eyes and muttered something to himself; Lee couldn't quite make it out. "We damn near missed it too."

Seeing Solon's momentary bleak look, Lee leaned forward and hissed "You said she was okay."

"Physically she's pulled through. As I said, we've drained the bleeding and repaired everything we could. Beyond her lung and ribs, she had maybe a dozen fractures all over the place in her ribs, chest, and legs. We noticed some damage to her right knee that looked pretty old…"

"She was a Pyramid player in the Amateur Leagues. A dirty play in her last game blew her knee out." Lee flinched at the memory. It had killed her chances of going pro the next season, just like he would have torn that bastard Corinthian apart with his bare hands if Kara hadn't needed him more. It still made him sick to think about it.

"That sounds consistent. This attack looks to have exacerbated the damage a bit. Again, we have repaired what we can but she'll definitely be on crutches for awhile."

Lee forced himself to ask, "Anything else?"

"We also noticed an awful lot of healed old breaks and some scar tissue."

"Her mother physically abused her for most of her childhood." Lee couldn't elaborate; Kara had rarely spoken about the years before she and he had collided so spectacularly. Fortunately Doctor Solon didn't appear immediately inclined to push.

"Okay, that explains the breaks and external scars. The internal scarring is what worries us more."

_That_ was news to Lee. "I -- I don't know -- what kind of scarring?"

"In her, um, uterus. It looks comparatively recent as well…" It took several seconds for the implications to set it.

"Was -- was she --" Lee felt his throat completely close, choking the word before his speaking it could make it real. Doctor Solon took an extra moment to puzzle out this reaction. Then he got it.

"No, thank the gods! No, there's no indication she was, um, violated like that here."

"Then what -- how recent is this 'scarring'?"

"A few years. I'd guess five at most."

"Five years…?"

"At most," the doctor nodded. "It looks like she suffered some kind of trauma and miscarried early on…"

Lee faded after that, all conscious thought consumed by four words.

_Five years. Trauma. Miscarriage_.

He felt himself nodding at odd intervals. His mental autopilot switched on and took him through the motions of human conversation. Something he was temporarily incapable of while those four words kept swirling around in his mind.

_Five years. Trauma. Miscarriage._

He'd raged, cursed, and cried out for her for years now. He'd seen her face in crowds and in his dreams. He'd needed to impose it on every woman he'd frakked, just to be able to _perform_. He'd imagined her alive and happily married somewhere. He'd blamed himself and everyone he'd met for her just -- just _vanishing_ like she had.

Not once, not for a single heartbeat, could he have even _dreamed -- _this -- could be the reason of her doing so.

_Five years! Trauma! Miscarriage_!

It was nearly enough to undo him right there, in front of everyone and the gods. He might well have collapsed physically as well as mentally had Doctor Solon's voice not managed to cut through the haze covering him. "Lieutenant? Did you hear me?"

"Uh?" Lee blinked several times. "No. Sorry."

"It's alright, Lieutenant. It's a lot to take in, I know." Solon settled back and continued. "I was saying we'll have to wait for the swelling over her eye to go down before we can check for loss of visual acuity. There's also no evidence of a concussion or any deeper damage to her head, but we'll have to wait there as well. We're keeping her under close observation in the meanwhile."

"Good news," Lee nodded, and then frowned. "You said she's recovered?"

"No. We're moving her to Recovery. She hasn't regained consciousness yet, nor do we expect her to anytime soon."

"Medically induced coma?" He'd seen a few of his pilots have to be drugged to unconsciousness a few times after a mishap in the air or during landing, so the concept wasn't unknown to him.

"Not at present. We've just put her on some very heavy sedatives. We'll re-evaluate once she wakes up." Solon glanced over his shoulder at the wall clock, which read 3:05 in the morning. "Speaking of which, I'm sorry but I need to get some rest. So do you by the look of it."

The hint was lost on Lee. "When can I see her?"

"Um, just ask the nurses station. They can direct you." The surgeon stood and gave him a pointed look. "Lieutenant? Some advice first: you might want to at least change your uniform _before_ going to see her."

With that, the doctor turned and left him to puzzle out this strange statement. Lee looked down at himself for the first time since he'd stepped off the shuttle near the Embankment the previous day, grimacing at the wrinkles and faint bloodstains that streaked his jacket and pants. Much as he hated to admit it, the doctor was right. Gods alone knew how she _would_ react to seeing him when she finally woke up; she absolutely did _not_ need to see him looking battered and bloodstained like this.

This cleared his head enough to realize there were certain practical issues that needed addressing; ones he couldn't deal with alone. Stubborn as he was, Lee Adama was no fool.

Inquiring at the nurse's station as Solon had advised, Lee sought out the nearest public phone and made two calls. The first was to the _Atlantia_, politely requesting the Officer of the Watch extend his pass an additional 48 hours. The officer in question, a recently promoted Deck officer named Gaeta, immediately granted the request, leading Lee to suspect Major Corel must have left orders of his own to allow for this.

This wasn't more than a temporary solution. Kara's condition could turn south or she'd have additional complications or any number of additional problems would arise, and Lee was determined that nothing short of a Cylon armada jumping in directly over their heads was going to pull him away from her. While he had months of leave time accumulated, Lee knew he would need an acceptable reason to claim them. He doubted his suddenly finding the woman who'd practically abandoned him before the Priestess five years earlier, who was also mentioned in the Marshfields getting closed down, would necessarily fit the bill.

He would have to worry about that later, however. Rather, he focused on making his second call, this one to his mother.

"'_Lo?"_a very, very sleepy Caroline Adama muttered.

"Mom? It's Lee."

"_Lee?"_ Caroline moaned a bit, leaving him to wonder if she hadn't started hitting the bottle again. _"Whu…? It's three in the morning."_

"I know and I'm sorry…"

His mother quickly overrode his apology, sounding considerably more awake and irritated with each word. _"And what are you -- you're calling from Taulycus Memorial?"_

"Yeah. I'm in Sparta…"

"_You're here on Caprica? Why didn't you call and tell me?"_

"I was going to…"

"_How long have you been here? And why are you calling from a hospital?"_

"Mom, I'll explain but please, just _listen_ to me for a moment. Okay?" When there were no further outbursts, Lee pressed on. "I need you here and I need you to bring one of my spare uniforms."

"_Okay. Why?"_

"Because I found…" Lee stopped himself before he could blurt out Kara's name. He needed his mother with him on this, but given the history involved, she may well just slam the phone down if he so much as mentioned Kara.

He opted instead for the truth. "Because I need your help here. I just -- I can't explain over the phone."

"_Can't, or won't?" _The woman knew him too well. Probably picked up on how nervous he'd become.

"It's just -- you'll have to see for yourself. Please, mom. Just get over here as quick as..."

"_I'll see you in a few hours, Lee."_ With that, his mother cut the connection, leaving Lee to stand there, momentarily stunned. It wasn't until the receiver in his hand began sounding an unpleasant alert tone that he finally hung it back on its cradle and marched over to the nurse's station.

"Which way to Kara Thrace's room?" was his question, asked in the politest, inoffensive, yet absolutely commanding voice.

* * *

The Recovery ward took up most of the second floor. Kara condition had been labeled as "stable but under observation", and so had been moved the north wing of the floor with the rest of the stable recoveries.

Lee found her just as one of the attending nurses was finishing connecting the heart monitor and saline tube. Turning, the pleasant-faced woman addressed him asking, "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah. How is she?"

"Are you a relative?"

"Her fiancée." When the nurse gave him a harder look, he added, "I only found her this way. Believe me, I wish I could do the same to whoever hurt her." It felt important he make this clear, indicating he either was more tired than he was willing to admit (even to himself) or he was truly on the edge of a full blown meltdown.

The nurse was apparently convinced by this as she nodded and left the room, leaving him alone with the still unconscious Kara.

* * *

It took Lee close to an hour before he could bring himself to approach her bedside. It wasn't fear that held him near the door, not really; more like outright, irrational terror. There was a crazed thought bouncing in histoo-tired mind that if he touched her, if he so much as _moved, _she would shatter to dust.

Oh, he was well aware how frakking crazy the thought was. It was -- _beyond_ insane actually.

However, seeing her lying there, emaciated and pale, barely breathing -- madness seemed the only way to survive such a sight.

So he stood there, trying to convince himself it was safe to move a single step closer.

Closer, to _her_.

It took awhile.

* * *

Another hour passed and something shifted inside him. Fear became something else, something less pure and easily defined.

Perhaps it was his over-active mind reaching out for something solid and comprehensible to occupy itself with, something other than the stew of emotional misfires the sight of Kara Thrace invoked in him. He found himself thinking over her injuries, reconstructing and de-constructing them as if there were some order to it all he could discover.

Her attackers – he had no doubt there had been at least three – had done a fair bit of damage the way they'd hammered on her. He suspected later examination would confirm some kind of weapon, something blunt and solid, had been employed which caused the breaks in her ribs and the internal bleeding; he recalled enough basic physiology to recognize how difficult it was to accomplish that kind of damage.

Then there were the kinds of damage that _hadn't_ been done to her. Broken ribs, battered chest and legs, and several sound blows to the head; that made all made sense. Her arms however had been more or less alone, and her legs, while bruised and her old Pyramid injury likely inflamed again, hadn't been broken. This suggested they hadn't wanted to incapacitate her physically. Even the severity of what they _had_ done to her didn't seem planned really; it was too tightly grouped and focused.

He also thought over her clothes, or the near lack of such. He'd been shocked, albeit distantly, in the ambulance to see she hadn't been wearing underwear or shoes of any kind. If her attackers had managed to subdue her, he suspected they had stripped her body, if only partially. _But _they hadn't raped her or violated her physically. Why? What did that say?

What did _all_ of it say?

Lee could only surmise this could have been a murder attempt that had been botched royally, as the injuries inflicted did not guarantee death. Alternately, it might have been a beating to deliver some stereotypical message, which had likewise been botched as she'd very nearly died from it. He didn't want to consider it was just some random act of violence; his mind shut down at the very concept someone would treat Kara this way without reason.

Regardless of the whys that this act had occurred, Lee resolved two things of himself. The first naturally was to work to ensure such an attack was _ever _visited upon her again if he could prevent it. The second was to visit upon those responsible far greater violence and pain with his own hands.

Lee Adama was realistic enough to know neither vow was truly within his power, but damned if just the promise alone didn't feel good for a change. Gods knew he'd felt nothing but agony the last five years, the kind he he was conscious of it only after it had lifted the moment he'd laid eye on _her._

* * *

Another hour passed and he finally ran out of excuses to stay away.

It all boiled down to fear; specifically the fear she would leave him again, and for good this time, and how it would be entirely _his_ own fault because he touched her, or his proximity would prove fatal, or her wounds were simply too much and he'd been too slow in finding her…

Something shifted within him again, giving him a strange sort of peace with the many possibilities he'd envisioned. _If_ she shattered to dust under his touch, so be it. _If_ his approaching her side killed her, so be it. _If_ his pleas weren't enough to hold her here, so be it.

If _any _of those happened, he would just eat the barrel of his service weapon. Then take the matter up with Hades himself.

A crazed chuckle passed through him at the thought. He let loose a shuddering breath after that, composure suddenly close to shattering. Dear gods, what had Kara Thrace done to him that he was so ready and willing to eat a bullet? Was he really as far gone as some of his fellow pilots snickered behind his back? He knew his last psyche evaluation had been less than stellar, hence his promotion being delayed as it was.

Unbidden, the four words that knocked him for a loop earlier returned.

_Five years. Trauma. Miscarriage._

"Oh gods," he muttered aloud, legs buckling and landing him in a chair he'd unconsciously dragged to her bedside. His eyes could leave her prone form, even as his hands fumbled with his jacket pocket and all but tore the three pictures out. He activated the bedside light, turning it to its lowest setting and leaning into the soft glow it offered.

Even though the underlying conviction about the two of them hadn't left him, it could stand some reinforcement. The sort of reinforcement seeing an eighteen year-old Lee Adama entwined with a sixteen year-old Kara Thrace provided. He knew exactly what moment the image captured, almost able to smell the fresh forest scents from the trees behind them. Lords but life had seemed so much simpler back then.

Feeling brave, he flipped to the second photo. It was just himself pictured this time, clad in his dress blues; it had been taken just after he had entered the Academy, when she'd ambushed him between classes. Lee knew it wouldn't take much thought to count the exact number of days since he'd last smiled as broadly or willingly as he did there. He'd scowled in his graduation picture, just as he had through most every other picture that had been taken in the interim.

He then turned to the third picture, this one smaller and on a different, thinner material than the other two. It actually took Lee a few extra seconds to understand what the roughly triangular image was. A few more seconds passed as his mind tried, desperately, to wrap itself around precisely _what_ he held in his hands. There was a date-stamp marked on the photo's border, placing it a few days before Kara had disappeared.

Lee Adama suddenly felt -- distant -- from himself. His hands went utterly numb, even as his fingers tightened their hold on the precious images. Thought, perception, even consciousness felt as if they occurred only from outside, as if he were just watching himself from across the room.

At the Academy and again in War College he'd sat through the odd lecture on combat trauma, one of the most common of which as a "dis-associative disorder", as the lecturers called it. A defense mechanism of the human mind against a potentially lethal sensory overload, not unlike a panic attack save being several orders of magnitude more intense. The subject would experience a disassociation from his surroundings, usually describing it as if he were an external observer rather than a participant.

Sitting there, looking at a five-year-old sonogram of a child he'd never even suspected had existed…

Lee Adama didn't know if he wished to continue residing in the body that felt so alien to him.

* * *

"I don't know if you can hear me, Kara -- no, I _hope_ you can. Because gods know there's so damned much I want -- that I _need_to say to you. This may be the only chance I have that I'll be able to do so without, heh, without worrying about you taking a swing at me.

"I -- I've -- tried to -- the last five years I've wondered -- what -- I've wondered why you...

"Godsdammit, Kara. You -- you didn't need to run from me -- from us. I mean, I understand why you -- I think I understand why you did. Maybe...

"Ah, frak. I _don't_ understand it, Kara. I don't get why you thought I -- why you thought running away like that -- no word, no note -- you just vanished and I didn't have -- you didn't leave me anything...

"It just didn't make sense. I just -- shut down when -- when you...

"I've -- I've never gotten over you, damn it. I always have to imagine it's you or nothing happens. Nothing at all, Kara. I can't -- frak, I go limp and frakking _stay_ limp. I can't even feel embarrassed about it anymore, because -- none of them matter -- nothing matters unless I know it's -- it's you...

"Frak, _that's _how deep you are inside me. And you know what? I just don't give a frak.

"I need you to wake up so I can see your eyes when I tell you this crap. And I need you -- yeah, I frakking _need_ you -- I need you because I'm only _alive_ with _you, _I've been dead without you -- for five frakking years...

"But -- that's not all of it -- is it? I -- need to know -- what the frak happened. I -- need -- need to know -- what happened to you -- no -- what happened to _both_ of you...

"My -- _our_ baby, Kara. I never knew -- you never gave any sign -- I didn't see -- anything...

"My gods, Kara. Why didn't you tell me? _Why?_ What? Were you afraid that _I'd_ run? Or that I'd turn out as bad as my father? Was that it?

"I need you to wake up and tell me what I did wrong so I can frakking _fix_it, because I can't frakking live unless -- just...

"I need you to wake up -- and -- just -- please don't leave me again...

"Please don't leave me.

"Please don't leave me.

"Please don't leave me.

"Please _don't leave me again."_

* * *

"_Lee Adama, please come to reception. Lee Adama, please come to reception."_

Lee Adama came to the reception desk, bleary eyed after nearly an hour of one-sided conversation with Kara. He marveled at the restraint he had shown thus far, keeping his temper cool and words alternately encouraging and outright pleading. Where he got those words, he had no real idea. It wasn't as if he'd had to do much hand-holding with his pilots.

Or with her for that matter. He still hadn't worked up the courage to actually _touch _her yet save to gently and carefully wrap her hand around the two photos of him, so at least a small sliver of him would remain with her. The sonogram however stayed in his pocket; Lee found himself unwilling to part with it despite being unable to so much as look at it for more than a few seconds at a time.

Caroline Adama watched him with equally bleary eyes, at least until she clearly saw her son's physical appearance. She took it all in – the bloodstains on his jacket, his sidearm, his completely disheveled appearance – and evidentially forgot whatever anger she held and hurried to him. "Lee?" she questioned, hand raised to touch him but holding herself back.

"You -- Mom, come with me? Please?"

Maybe it was the tone that hitched his voice or that, combined with the rest of his uncharacteristic appearance, but Caroline held her normally sharp tongue and did as her son bade her. She didn't speak until they reached the second floor. "I brought your uniform."

"Thanks," was Lee's only response, holding the door to the stairwell open for her, then taking the lead again.

She tried again. "Lee? Lee, stop. Please, just stop." Lee slackened his pace a little, enough for her to come up beside him. "What is this about? Why are you here?"

He didn't immediately reply, but the look he gave her was one that mixed pain, relief, and a fire she hadn't seen in too long. It was enough to quiet her again, and to follow him the last few steps into the room he entered.

Caroline Adama, who had lived through both war and marriage without stumbling, needed several seconds to collect herself at the sight that greeted her. She dropped the package she'd been holding. Her hands shot up to cover her cry of surprise and horror.

"My gods," she breathed, then sobbed aloud.

"Kara?"

_TBC..._


	4. Reinforcement and Recovery

_Part Four: Reinforcement and Recovery_

"Kara?!"

Caroline looked between her son and the bed. Her eyes ping-ponged between the room's two occupants with a mix of wonder and outright shock. Lee offered no explanation; he merely walked around to the other side of the bed and took a seat there. He made no move to touch the prone form in the bed.

As a test, Caroline clenched her hands to tight fists, relishing the bite of her nails into both palms. Satisfied this was not some absurd dream where she was going to wake up any moment, she took another chance to examine the scene before her, focusing on Lee first to fortify herself against likely heartbreak.

Her eldest son looked wrung out, exhausted, and generally in as poor shape as she'd ever seen him. His face was utterly closed off and unexpressive. However, she could not miss his eyes in the weak light, shining as much from a fire reignited within them as much as unshed tears that so stubbornly refused to fall yet.

She knew there was nothing she could do to help him that moment. Likely, he'd have refused comfort any way. Gods, but the boy would be the death of her, the perfect clone of his father. Still she could hardly blame him; finding -- her -- like this...

Speaking of whom, Caroline forced her eyes to move a single metra to the left, away from her son and to...

"Oh, gods," she couldn't help but whisper aloud. "Oh, Kara." The sheer number of tubes going into her was bad enough. Her torso under the covers appeared too bulky to be natural; Caroline promised herself to get a look at the charts. But the bandages around her face were the worst. Who would have dared mar something so beautiful, so precious that way?

Of all the ways she'd wondered and imagined what had happened to the girl, _this_ is what she'd actually feared the most. The years, and what few snatches of information came to her, had hardened that fear into an ironclad certainty. It was nearly enough to send Caroline to Temple to pray for her safety, even though she herself had been raised Caprican Orthodox and thus suspicious of any creeds.

The fact Kara Thrace actively if quietly practiced Base Koboli had worried her, but only slightly; she never evangelized or pushed it on anyone, least of all onto Lee. Socrata-the-bitch had probably done enough of that to forgive forever soured her daughter on preaching. For once Caroline hadn't minded trading on the family name, calling in a few subtle favors to help Kara's emancipation be approved; the further she could keep the girl from that monster, the better.

All those efforts appeared to be for naught, and Caroline felt as if she'd hit Bottom again. Lords have mercy upon her; she'd come so terribly close to forever damaging her eldest, all because she and his father didn't have the good sense to go their separate ways when they should have. Was this some backhanded punishment upon her, to watch her children suffer and be helpless to help or even soothe their hurts?

Caroline had to fight the momentary urge to chuckle at her egotism. As if she were so special, the Lords deemed her worthy of their attention.

But no, there was no divine intervention involved here, either positive or negative. Just garden-variety tragedy, the same as had plagued the human race since its creation.

Caroline wiped her own eyes angrily, refusing to give in to bitter tears that would help no one. Damn whoever had done this to this precious girl, but damn her first if she had let the same damage take her son down as well.

* * *

She picked up the small package she'd dropped in her shock when first coming into the room, then marched to stand beside Lee. Shoving the bundle into his lap and tugged on his shoulder, hard enough to pull his attention to her. "You. Change. Now." It was no polite request but a parental command, one that brooked neither protest nor refusal.

Lee might have attempted anyway, except good sense intervened at the last moment. He instead took the package, rose, and stumbled to the room's closet-sized bathroom. Satisfied he was occupied to for the moment, Caroline turned her attentions to the still figure in the bed. Taking the seat that had just been vacated; she gingerly placed an open palm on Kara's outstretched arm.

"Oh, Lords. Kara. What happened to you?" Caroline petted the arm, trying to sound reassuring. "That doesn't matter right now, does it? What matters is that you are here, that Lee has found you. And you know Lee. He won't let you out of his sight until he knows you're safe and secure."

She glanced towards the bathroom, then leaned closer. "Let you in on a little secret. That time you were missing from school for a week, when your -- when Socrata -- kept you locked away in the basement? Lee spent every waking hour searching the neighborhood for you." The memory was a bittersweet one, causing Caroline to bite her lip and reign in her emotions. "That's when I knew you two were bound so..."

Lee exiting the bathroom led her to hastily close with "We'll talk more in a bit. You just rest there for now." Giving Kara's arm a last pat, Caroline stood and moved to intercept her son. "We need to talk." She was more than mildly relieved when he offered no objection and followed her out into the hallway.

They didn't move far or even beyond the doorway; Caroline wasn't any more willing than Lee to have Kara out of her sight for long. "Alright, Leland Joseph Adama," she opened. "Start explaining how your former fiancée... "

"She's _still _my..."

"Quiet. How did Kara end up in this condition?" She narrowed her eyes when Lee did not immediately. "Well?"

"You just told me to be quiet," he stated flatly.

"_Don't _be smart." Caroline stopped herself and shook her head to clear it. Getting into a shouting match with Lee, who had likely been tying himself into knots with fear and worry all this time, was not going to prove productive.

She studied the floor as she turned what little she knew over in her head. The bloodstains on his uniform suggested he had either been present when Kara was attacked or he'd found her shortly afterwards. The former was simply too laughable to be seriously entertained. This meant that as tired and worried as she was, Lee was no doubt in even worse shape; the last thing he needed was another confrontation.

"Lee," she breathed in a quiet, contrite voice. "I'm sorry." He wouldn't meet her eyes and gave a sharp nod. "Please, how did you find her? Was she like this?"

"Yeah. She -- collapsed -- right in front of me."

"Where?"

"The apartment where she's been staying. I have no idea how long she's been living there. Not long judging by how little she had there."

"The apartment being where?"

"Here in Sparta, a few blocks away from the Embankment."

Caroline quickly looked back into the room, all sorts of new and more worrying possibilities coming to mind. The Embankment had an unpleasant reputation planetwide. Kara living there, even for a short time, was not a pleasant notion.

"Okay. So she's presumably been living there. But _how_ did _you_ find her?" Lee shuffled his feet a bit. "Lee?"

"Remember that portfolio I gave her for her seventeenth?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I found some boy on the Embankment trying to sell it." Caroline gave him a look, knowing there was more to the story but uncertain if she wanted to actually hear it.

"And you were certain it was hers?"

"Well, her initials were still on the cover." Now he chose to meet her eyes. "I had them specially designed and imprinted. Believe me, I've never seen the like elsewhere."

"Hmm. And the boy led you to her? What, did she sell it to him?"

"No. He admitted he stole it. And all he did was tell me where her apartment was."

"Lee, that was..."

"Stupid. I know, I know." Lee sighed. "Believe me, Mom, I'm well aware of how big a chance I was taking."

"But you didn't think of that at the time, did you?" Caroline sighed, clearly unsurprised and not a little impressed. "So you found her there?"

"No. She was out somewhere when I got there." He looked over at the bed, jaw working tightly. "I, uh, found some things there while I was waiting. She didn't have, well, anything really."

"And there was enough there to confirm it was her?"

Lee gave a shaky laugh, and reached into his jacket pocket. Caroline frowned at the sight of the pilot's wings, and deeper still at the engagement ring Lee had agonized nearly a month over before going and buying it. "Was this all of it?"

"No. She had saved a bunch of her drawings."

"That's all?"

"A couple, uh, photos as well."

Caroline frowned again at the suddenly sharp tone in his voice. "Photos? Of you two?"

"Yes."

"Must have been quite a shock. For you, I mean."

"Ngh," Lee shrugged, trying but failing to sound non-committal.

"What aren't you telling me, Lee?" Caroline took her son's chin in hand and forced him to face her directly. "You weren't part of this, were you?" she asked with a wave into the room. To her immense relief, her son recoiled away from her, his face darkening to a fury, the likes of which she had never seen in him. Ever.

"Gods! How can you...? No!"

"Okay, okay." Caroline quickly brought up both hands, grasping him gently on the shoulders. "I didn't really think that was it."

Now it was her turn to recoil as Lee leaned forward and snarled. "Then why'd you frakking ask?"

"Because, Lee, do you remember how you were when she vanished?" He said nothing, fury undiminished but eyes clearing just a shade. "You remember how -- angry -- you were, or how you got whenever her name was mentioned? Lee? Do you?"

He continued to stare.

"You call me here in the dead of night and show me -- show me _this_." She waved towards the bed not two metra away to emphasize her point. "Did you think I'd at least consider the possibility that you _might_ have...?"

Without breaking eye contact, Lee reached again into his breast pocket and pulled out a square of glossy paper, something far thinner than normal film. He glanced at it once, then handed it to his mother, who needed barely a second to recognize what it was. His next words were as tight with restrained emotion as his face had become.

"The doctors said she has scarring in her uterus from a trauma and _miscarriage_, dating back to roughly five years ago." Caroline could only nod, virtually deaf to his next words. "No matter -- no matter how angry I am with her -- and believe me, I was ready to tear her apart when she got -- _gets_ better -- before I found --" He shook his head. "No, Mom. The second I saw this?" He tapped a finger on the sonogram. "You might as well get a priest or priestess in here, because we'll either be speaking our vows or get _both_ our last rites here."

Caroline looked up sharply and hissed, "Don't you _say_ that!"

Lee however was unfazed, the light flickering in his eyes like a candle's flame in the wind. "We're bound together, Mom. Always have been. Why d'you think I'm considered a stamper. I _know_Admiral Nagala's talked to you about my psyche evals."

"Lee..."

"C'mon, Mom. You and I both know half my service jacket is disciplinary notes."

Caroline knew this was a bit of an exaggeration, those notations making up at most a third of the citations in his record. Each referred to maneuvers and tactics he'd done back in War College and during war games he'd flown in; they were mainly _pro forma_ notes for what all agreed showed true outside the box thinking. "Pushing the envelope" in pilot-speak she'd heard over the years, a "stamper" being a pilot who consistently executed maneuvers at the metaphorical edge of the envelope, where the equally metaphorical postage was canceled. It was a term normally reserved for test pilots, and one invoking equal parts admiration and caution.

He was also right about Admiral Duras Nagala coming to talk to her about Lee's career, or rather his growing lack of one. By rights, with his flight record and training he should have been made Captain at the very least by now. But he had been held back due to his apparent lack of drive for promotion or recognition, not to mention the odd incident of undisciplined drinking when he was (rarely) off-duty. His life aboard _Atlantia_ appeared to consist of nothing but flight, maintenance, more flight, food, and sleep; hardly the sort of work ethic one expects from an engaged and ambitious officer.

This had gone largely unnoticed while he was in the Academy, thankfully graduating before the full impact of the Favors Trading Scandal hit, and through his tour at War College; everyone had just chalked it up to the boy trying to live up to his father's legend at the expense of his social life.

* * *

The last time Nagala had brought this up, Caroline had promised to at least try to speak with Lee about it. Neither of them held out much hope of getting through to him. Caroline herself felt no surprise at hearing all this, though it never occurred to her to try explaining it to Nagala. What would she say?

_Oh, don't worry about him, Duras. Lee's just so completely hung up on a girl who ran off without saying good-bye five years ago, he'll likely never pull it together. Who was she? Kara Thrace. _

_Yes, the same one who started the avalanche that has practically buried your Academy and forced you to close the Marshfields. How are those reparationspayments going, by the way? They're up to what, ten million cubits now? Twelve? You could build a new battlestar with that kind of payout those idiots in the Admiralty have provoked. _

_Count yourself lucky Kara disappeared before she and Lee were married, otherwise it would be twice that much when they got through with you._

Oh, yes. What a frakking wonderful conversation that would have been.

* * *

At that moment in time, mockery like that was very, very far away from her thoughts. She was barely even aware how she and her eldest were still standing in a hospital corridor, or that a girl she'd come to care for, far more than she'd truly been willing to admit, was lying and possibly dying a short distance away.

No, none of those things were on her mind. Only the flimsy, irreplaceable image in her hands was all that mattered.

Caroline was not so mindless as to not watch how tightly she was gripping the paper however. Or rather, she was initially, but when it began to crease under her fingertips, she immediately calmed and loosened her hold.

"What?" she looked up quickly, realizing that Lee had said something.

"I said do you understand now?'

"I don't understand a damned thing, Lee. Okay, so you found her here in Sparta, and I presume she was in this condition when you did find her. That doesn't explain..." She looked down at the sonogram again, realizing this alone explained so very much.

She tried again. "Did you find anything to suggest what she was doing here?"

"Nothing."

"What? No papers or anything?"

"Half a drawer of military surplus clothes. That was it beyond -- this."

"Wha...?" Caroline shook her head again, vision and thoughts clouding. "No tools? Books?" She recalled how Kara would spend hours reading her way through their house's library. The later works of Kataris and Thal's four volume retelling of the founding of Kobol had been her favorites.

It was strange to think of her living somewhere without a book of some kind near at hand. It was heartbreaking, actually; Caroline felt her chest literally burn from the image that came to mind. She reached for something less emotionally trying to focus on.

"Just half a drawer of clothes?" Okay, it wasn't the best option available, but Lords knew it was better than thinking about her injuries or trying to continue talking about her -- frak, _their_ shared past.

"Not even that. Smelled like she hadn't been near a laundry or decent shower in awhile either."

So much for something safer to focus on. Dear Lords, what she gone through the last five years that she'd ended up like this? Caroline felt no further desire to hear or learn more. It was too early in the morning, and the shock was still too raw for her to take anything else in.

What now? Well, that was the question. She looked at her son again, pursing her lips tightly. Even with his change of clothes, Lee looked no better than he had been earlier. Lords only knew what kind of feelings and worries she'd had to stir up in him by recounting his finding Kara. If he was feeling even a tenth as confused and frightened as she was...

"All right, Lee. This is what we're going to do." Caroline handed the sonogram back to him, and then grasping both his hands gently. "I want you to go back to my house..."

"I..."

"Quiet!" She snarled, tightening her hold on him; so far, they had managed to avoid raising their voices. Caroline didn't feel up to arguing with hospital staff. Neither, it seemed, did Lee as he calmed and focused on her. "I know you. You have been up and worrying yourself sick for hours. And you are in no condition to continue to sit here and certainly no condition to help her when she wakes up."

"Mom..."

"Plus which, have the police been contacted yet?"

"I don't know. The doctor mentioned them..."

"You need to check on that. And contact the Fleet..."

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You think that mess started when that bastard tried to prostitute her has died down any?" Lee's face was nearly comical. Surely, he hadn't become so disconnected that he'd didn't know how bad the scandal had become.

What was she saying? Lee had been barely functional since Kara vanished. It was unlikely he could have named even one of his graduating class or how many medals he had been awarded. She could see how he had simply ignored any news about the troubles the Academy and Admiral's Board was experiencing.

Zak, Lords bless him, had been the one who had kept Lee tethered to the rest of them; the only one who Lee directly responded to without reservation. If not for that connection, she might never have known how badly Lee was suffering from Kara's seeming abandonment.

Not that she'd been much better. It had taken close to a year to take the perfectly sensible step of hiring an investigator to find her. Unfortunately, by that time Kara had been tossed out of the Marshfields and the tidal wave of sworn statements were swamping the Fleet, and all but wiped way any trail Kara might have left. Caroline had ended her investigation around the time Admiral Buller was finally arrested and charged, by which time she'd become half-convinced Kara had been murdered as retribution for starting the whole thing.

It was, upon reflection, a foolish assumption and an even worse mistake. Caroline pulled herself back to the present. Her mistakes could not be unmade, but at least their effects mitigated.

"Lee," she began gently. "Admiral Nagala has been asking after her as often as he has about you. They want her back." His expression turned stormy again. "Its something we all need to discuss, but later. _All _of us, Lee. Kara included. But later, you understand me?"

Lee said nothing, but relaxed visibly, then started to sag as if his skin was the only thing holding him together. Caroline was quick to see and press her advantage. "You need to rest, Lee. Especially if you're going to be any use to anyone when she wakes up. So go back to my house and don't even think of coming back here until you've showered, eaten and slept for six hours, minimum. Got it?"

He looked ready to argue, and equally ready to just collapse at her feet. Caroline steeled herself for either possibility. "You _will_ call if she -- if anything..."

"If anything changes, anything at all, I'll call. I promise you that, Lee." She cupped his face with a mother's gentleness. "Lee, she'll need you firing on all cylinders. For her sake and my sake, please do as I say."

"You'll be okay?"

"Yes. And don't worry about calling the police. I'll see to that myself."

Lee rallied himself, straightening up and nodding. He then asked, "Anything I should, um, bring with me later?"

"My copies of _Paracelius, _and Book One of _Kobol_." At Lee's strange expression, Caroline added, "They were her favorites to read when you two were younger." It went unsaid that neither he nor Kara it seemed had been that young in some years.

"Right. See you when I get back."

Caroline watched her son march to the elevator and head downstairs, giving her a final, tired wave just before he vanished. She figured he would either take the monorail or hail a tube shuttle. Either would get him back to Caprica City proper in just under two hours. He would doubtless take care of his physical needs first, and then take the six-hour nap she'd ordered him to. Give him another two hours to return and that gave her just over ten hours to unravel this furball and make what preparations she could for them.

Before all that, however, there were things she needed to say to a certain someone.

* * *

"Hello, Kara. I -- am happy to see you again. Mind you, I am _not_ pleased to see you in this condition. It's actually, well, pretty damned hard on me to see you hurt this badly.

"I suppose you expect me to start yelling and cursing the gods, demanding they...that they finish the job here. Well too bad, girl, because you aren't dying on us today. Or tomorrow. Or any of the days and years to come. You don't deserve death, Kara.

"No. What _you_ deserve is life and love like the rest of us mere mortals, no matter _what_ that hag-bitch told you when you were growing up. May the gods have granted her peace, because _I_ sure as Hades' black chariot would _not_ if she were still on this side of the River Styx.

"I'm sure Lee has already talked to you at length and -- well, not knowing exactly what he said, I'd advise taking things with a grain of salt. Unless he's still blaming himself, in which case you can go ahead and just ignore it completely.

"You know Lee, probably better than I or his father ever did. He'll rage and scream, and then get all quiet and somehow conclude it's _his_ fault. Then he'll push things around until everything is the way he thinks they should be. And you -- like this -- mean, how could this be _Lee's _fault?

"Oh! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I didn't mean...

"Kara, I don't care what business you've been in or had to get into since you were thrown -- since you were forced out of the Fleet. I know you did it just to survive. And maybe you feel you have to -- atone -- for what happened to you -- to both you and…

"Oh, Kara. This is so wrong that you had to -- gods, listen to me. I can barely bring myself to say it. It is -- _wrong_.

"What can I say, Kara? Do I wish you'd come to us, to me, rather than running off? If I had known…

"No. No, I won't lie to you. Bad enough I've been doing that to myself all these years. It's probably -- probably just as well you _didn't_ come to me. If you'd told me then, like that -- after that -- I confess I -- I probably wouldn't have -- couldn't have understood…

"I -- I was -- gods damn me -- I was actually _relieved_ when you left. I won't ask you to forgive me for that because _I_ sure as shit haven't forgiven _myself_. I didn't see what Lee saw in you, not until it was too late. I just saw a very pretty girl being hurt by her mother -- the way I used to hurt Lee -- so I helped a little, so I could feel like a decent mother -- and I had the sick pride to pat myself on the frakking back for helping you get away from that she-bitch.

"You know, I thought Lee was joking when he said he was going to marry you. He wasn't going to ask, he was just going to take you to a priestess and marry you on the spot. And I tried -- oh, gods you'll hate me for this -- I even tried to talk him _out_ of it, thinking -- saying -- you weren't good enough.

"I have no excuse for that. None! I -- gods, Kara, you -- you deserve so much better than all this…

"Yes, Kara: _you_. And I _swear_ to you and to the gods I'll _show_ you that when you wake up. But you've got to wake up first, Kara. Please.

"Please don't -- don't leave us now, just when we've found you again. I don't think Lee will -- will survive if you -- leave…

"I don't think I will either.

"Please wake up. Please just wake up.

"Please _just wake up._"

* * *

By the time Lee returned in the early afternoon, Caroline felt she'd talked herself hoarse, but to no visible affect. She'd confessed herself so thoroughly and pontificated about, well, everything that she half-expected her otherwise captive audience to awake just to tell her to shut the frak up. Sadly, Kara remained as unresponsive as when she'd arrived.

Given the unconscious woman a small kiss on the cheek and a quiet promise to be back shortly, Caroline rose on unsteady legs and moved to greet her eldest. She accepted the overnight bag of clothes and toiletries without a word, giving him only a small shake of her head before moving off to find the nearest wash room.

She therefore missed hearing the barely audible words spoken within the room, or how Lee stiffening in the doorway, then all but threw himself into room.

TBC...

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Hope you enjoyed this one. Use the Review button to let me know how much. I won't promise how quick an update is coming, but I'll do my level best to get it in before the weekend. Cheers._


	5. Reconnection

_(Okay, all those desperate pleas for an update must have been heard, as the characters decided to end this chapter a bit earlier than I'd originally planned. Darn but you guys are persuasive!)_

* * *

_Part Five: Reconnection_

After waking long enough to drunkenly mutter, "Hey, Lee," Kara went back to sleep, and _stayed _asleep through several rounds of nurses, doctors and check-ups. It was either a testament to the sedatives she'd been given or an indication the damage was worse than anyone feared. Neither Lee nor Caroline wanted to think it was the latter, but it was hard not to at least consider it.

Even more remarkable, and still more worrying despite Doctor Solon's assurances, was her sleeping through Lee and Caroline reading through Kataris' 379 page masterpiece in three shifts of two hours each. Kara, for whatever reason, had taken to memorizing large tracts of _Paracelis_, working it into conversation, even the most casual sort.

In the meanwhile, they had both given statements to the Sparta Police officers who had come in the late afternoon, their visit prompted by Doctor Solon's initial report. In some respects, they had learned more from this than the vaguely indifferent police, as it gave them both further insights into Kara's activities the last few years.

The officers were just a bit taken aback by Lee's direct statement, one backed by Caroline, that she was bound to him. They slipped a bit at hearing this, mentioning how Kara's few known associates within Sparta were -- unsavory. Thankfully, she had no arrest record and was not named as a party to any particular crime or gang activity.

The officers stated they would station a uniformed guard outside for the next day or so, at least until Kara could give a statement of her own. Lee attempted to press for further intel, albeit indirectly, but learned no names or even vague hints. Caroline fared no better.

Both agreed what little they'd learned was sufficient, if unsatisfying. Kara was clearly safe for the moment. The rest would have to wait.

* * *

Lee was reading the climax of this lengthy poem, keeping half an eye on the door for his mother to return at any moment.

"_Such a pleasant thing, you propose to me,  
__That this our love might be between us into eternity.  
__Make it so that we are able to promise truly,__  
and that they speak sincerely and from the heart,__  
so that it might be allowed for us,  
__in this whole life and into eternity,  
to guide this sacred bond."_

He paused there, reflecting on how long it had been since he had heard that passage. It was secretly his favorite, mainly because it had been Kara's. Plus she had a way of reciting it that, well, he really _didn't _need to be thinking about.

At least not in a public place. And certainly _not _his mother in proximity.

Lee allowed himself a moment's reflection, to indulge in memories he had refused for too long. He picked up where he left off.

"_For myself and me, I have judged them and their sins so rightly,  
I, too, have spent a life the sages' way  
and tread once more familiar paths.  
Perchance I perished in an arrogant self-reliance an age ago."_

He hadn't been reading especially loudly or quickly. He _did_however want to get through this section quickly. It tended to choke him up and it would never do for the son of the great William 'Husker' Adama to get visibly emotional.

"_And in that act, a prayer for one more chance  
Went up so earnest, so pure, so clear, so.  
So free of all past sin, that it was heard.  
Instinct, with better light let in by death,  
That life was blotted out not so completely."_

It wasn't his voice what recited the next line.

"_But scattered wrecks enough of it to remain dim memories... as now..."_

Her voice was soft; one might mistake it for weak. 'Weak' was a word his mind shied away from relating to her, just as surely as it shied from actually _thinking_ of her to begin with. Lee had to bite his lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, fighting to get his already churning emotions back under control. He began the last line…

_"When seems once more..."_

…only to have Kara complete it.

"_The goal in sight again."_

It was all Lee could do to close the book calmly and to stand, moving so he was more clearly visible to her uncovered eye so she wouldn't drift off again too quickly. For all the good it did him personally; his own eyes had teared up so badly she was little more than a blur, one ringed with a shinning halo that left him every bit as blind as if her were standing before Zeus himself.

* * *

"'S this real?" Kara slurred slowly, only to immediately begin coughing. Lee quickly filled the cup on the nearby tray with water and brought it to her, deftly moving its plastic straw to her dry lips. She looked him over as she accepted the straw and took a tentative sip, not entirely believing it was _him_. For all she knew it was one of Hades' minions slipping her something nasty and painful; all the more reason to get this over with and accept her damnation.

But it was only cool water that soaked her tongue and relieved her throat, just as it was only Lee Adama who settled himself to sit down beside her. Lee Adama who took her too-weak hand in his. Lee Adama who gazed at her with those shinning blue eyes she never dared pray would be turned on her again.

"Hi," he whispered gently, giving her a smile, a shy smile.

"Hi," she smiled, equally shyly in return. "Lee..." Just saying his name was enough to bring tears.

Lee's fingers brushed up against her lips, quieting her. Kara found herself closing her good eye instinctively, breathing in his unique scent through the otherwise stale air. "Shh," he whispered. S'okay. The doctors say you'll be okay."

He read her next question before she could even draw the breath to speak it. "I found the boy who stole your portfolio. He told me where to find you." They breathed in tandem, the effort equally shaky between them albeit for clearly different reasons. "Thank the gods I _did,_" was his only addition.

Kara forced her eye open again and gazed at him. He looked drawn, almost haunted in a strangely familiar way. Her mind shied away from further comparisons and she instead craned her neck up to get a better look at his uniform. It wasn't surprising to see him wearing it; the surprise was the odd wrinkle here and there on the jacket and trousers, said jacket sporting _only_ a Lieutenant's insignia and a pair of standard flight wings on the breast.

She didn't realize how hard she was frowning at his chest until Lee reached out again and, with gentle fingers under her chin, brought her eye back to his. "We've got a lot to talk about, Kara. And we will. I swear we will work this out, no matter what it takes or how long..."

A new voice rang out from the doorway, one louder and more insistent, causing Kara to flinch involuntarily from its unexpected force. "Lee? What are you -- oh."

_Oh, frak! _Kara silently screamed, seeing Caroline Adama standing there, gazing at her with equally wide and surprised eyes. She couldn't help but start to hyperventilate at bit, making her vision swim. Was this the punishment the gods had decreed for her? To have to face the condemnation of the woman she'd so dearly wished had been her true mother.

Lee's voice the cut through that panic, quieting her heart with a simple touch and a murmured, "Shhh. Its okay, Kara. Really. It's okay."

Caroline looked at them both for a heartbeat, her eyes widening in what looked like actual horror. She clamped both hands over her mouth, her words muted but audible around them. "Oh, oh, Kara. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you -- oh, my dear..."

Lee, ever her savior, gave his mother a reproachful look. He hissed, "Mom, please." If it were possible, Caroline looked even more embarrassed and upset.

"Right. I'm sorry. I'll be -- I'll just be over here." She sat herself on the room's one remaining chair, worrying her lower lip and gazing at her hands in her lap.

Lee simply shook his head at her, then refocused himself on Kara. Laying a hand carefully on her right arm – this contact alone nearly causing Kara to swoon – he asked her, "Are you in any pain? Should I call a nurse?"

Kara took that moment to concentrate on her body, allowing her conscious awareness feel its way through the multitude of aches and pains that ran the length of her. It was nearly too much for her already-battered consciousness to process. "I'll call the nurse," Lee stated, pressing the call button but otherwise not wavering from his place beside her.

The nurse came in a few seconds after that. "Good evening, Mrs. Adama. How are we here?" It took all of them a few more seconds to realize the woman was addressing Kara and _not _Caroline. The nurse,whose nametag read 'Gorgo', didn't acknowledge their collective befuddlement, but rather checked the fluid bags and their tubes surrounding Kara.

"She's, um," Lee stumbled, too discomfited to complete the thought. Whether it was because she looked like a glamour centerfold from _Virgon Dreams _or because of how she'd addressed Kara was uncertain.

"Awake. Yes, I see." Nurse Gorgo nodded, mostly to herself and completely ignoring him. "So, Mrs. Adama, how are we feeling right now? Hmm?"

It was clear the woman expected an answer, so Kara coughed experimentally and said, "I, uh, my chest hurts -- sort of."

"Hmm," Nurse Gorgo hummed; satisfied her patient was getting the requisite fluid drips. She then checked over the chart at the foot of the bed. "Oh, my."

"What is it?" Lee asked quickly.

"It seems Mrs. Adama here..."

"M'name izn't Adama," Kara slurred, frowning at the weakness in her voice, forcing her to enunciate forcefully "Izz -- it is Thrace."

"Hmm? That's odd, as your benefits carrier has you down as 'Karissa Adama'." Lee and Kara met each other's puzzled expression, then in tandem turned to look over at Caroline, who had taken to studying the (nonexistent) cracks in the ceiling with all-encompassing interest.

Kara recovered first, shaking her head sharply. "M'name iz Kara. Don -- use tha' -- name. I ha -- _hate -- _tha' name."

"'Karissa'? Why ever not?" Nurse Gorgo sounded truly puzzled. "It certainly suits you."

"Frak you!"

" No, thank you. I'm already involved with someone."

"Ha -- harpee!"

"Yes, I get that a lot. Now, I'm going to adjust your bed a bit here." Nurse Gorgo reset the bed's angle so Kara's upper half was angled upwards, just shy of having her sitting up. "Good. Now, any difficulty breathing? Headaches? Dizziness?"

"I -- uh, no. An' no. An' a bit -- I thin'..." Kara frowned, trying to regain some control of her thoughts. Lee's proximity wasn't helping. "Quit lookin' at me," she ordered, her eye focused on the wall directly ahead.

"Eventually," he stated with all seriousness.

Nurse Gorgo cleared her throat with equal seriousness. "Your pardon, Lieutenant?"

Lee stood straighter on instinct. "Adama. Lee Adama."

"Lieutenant Adama, if Karissa..."

"Don' call me that!" Kara growled.

Nurse Gorgo gave a huff of a sigh and tried again. "If _my patient _asks you to do something, please do it. Her recovery is paramount here and unnecessary antagonism..." Caroline and Lee chuckled aloud. Gorgo looked over towards Caroline for the first time. "Any you are?"

"Caroline Adama. Lee's mother."

"And your relation to Karis -- my patient?"

"Mother-in-law." She frowned slightly and added "Eventually."

"I see." Nurse Gorgo looked between the three of them, as if measuring up each in turn. Her eyes rested on Caroline as she explained, "I am going to fetch Doctor Solon now. Please, both of you, refrain from antagonizing my patient. In fact, given circumstances, perhaps Lieutenant Adama should wait outside and you..."

Kara's eye abruptly widened in blind panic. "No! She goes, Lee stays!"

Both Lee and Caroline were equally surprised at this outburst, neither knowing what to make of this, although the latter looked considerably less hurt by the apparent slight

Nurse Gorgo didn't so much as bat an eye. "Very well," she nodded. "Mrs. Adama, please?"

Caroline Adama rose to her feet with considerable dignity and gave her children a look perfected by two deca worth of parental practice. "Kara, you just rest. Lee, don't push and _don't_ upset her. We, the three of us, will deal with everything later, _understood_?"

Despite herself, Kara found herself nodding. Lee merely shrugged. Nurse Gorgo viewed the lot of them with disfavor, but led the elder Adama out the door and left the children alone.

Neither of whom were able to as much as look at the other, but neither were they able to move away. Both knew it would be a futile effort, realizing on some level their respective steps would merely lead _back_ to one another, in this life and all others.

_"When seems once more...  
The goal in sight again."_

Small wonder _Paracelis_ was among their favorite pieces.

* * *

Critics of his day considered _Paracelis_a sign that Kataris had passed his prime, calling it "over-written" and "imponderable". Even modern Academics preferred avoiding having it discussed in the classes they taught, often finding it intimidating and dense.

But what did critics and academics know?

* * *

He smiled shyly again. "Hi."

She returned it, equally shyly. "Hi."

TBC...

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Honesty compels me to admit the following: the two large tracts of poetry are notmy own (oh, how I wish!). The first seven lines Lee recites are a variation of the passage from Kataris appearing in the fanfic story "Possibilities: Deviation", penned by the incomparable Mystic83 (aka Emily). The second bit, which Lee and Kara play verbal ping-pong with, is a paraphrasing of the concluding section of the poem "Paracelsus", written in 1835 CE by the Terran poet Robert Browning (1812 - 1889). Needless to say, I'm using both without prior permission. _


	6. Interested Parties

_Part Six: Interested Parties_

No sooner were Caroline and Nurse Gorgo out of the room than a voice called across the hallway. "Mrs. Adama?" They looked over and saw a pair of Fleet officers approaching, a Marine in khakis trailing behind them.

Caroline nodded to Nurse Gorgo and murmured, "Please fetch the doctor quickly." She then turned to the approaching military men, greeting them with a polite, "Gentlemen?"

"Ma'am," the leader nodded to her, clearly resisting the urge to salute her. "Major Lyceus." He was a fresh-faced lad sporting a Major's insignia, but wore an aegis pin in place of pilot's wings and his shoulders sported the castle walls of a planetside career staffer rather than the Phoenix of a ship's officer. Caroline debated with herself whether she'd make this meeting needlessly difficult for him or not.

Major Lyceus introduced his colleague as "Lieutenant Torris." Torris looked nearly a deca older, with a deeply lined face and a permanent frown, but wore only Lieutenant's bars and Pilot's wings. Caroline instinctively warmed to the junior-ranking officer, as much from the serious and apparently permanent frown of worry he wore as his Pilot's wings. Well, at least the Admiralty was not so totally brain-dead that they wouldn't think to send someone with whom she and Lee (and hopefully Kara as well) could relate.

"Major, Lieutenant. I presume Admiral Nagala sent you?"

"Um, no, Ma'am." Now it was Major Lyceus' turn to frown. "We're from the Judge Advocates Division."

"Ah. So you're about Kara."

"Yes, ma'am. We're to take Lieutenant Thrace into custody."

"I wasn't aware Kara had re-enlisted," she observed frostily. "_Or_ that she was under arrest."

She was pleasantly pleased to see the young Major quail slightly, even though he recovered quickly. "Ah, sorry. Let me clarify; no warrant has been issued for her arrest."

"Pray explain the difference between 'arrest' and 'taking into custody' to me, _before _I start thinking that I should call Admiral Nagala and hear the definition of it from him directly." Caroline actually understood the distinction quite well, given who Bill's father was and the sheer amount of legal intrigue and hairsplitting she'd been exposed to over the years.

"Um, as I stated, we weren't sent by Admiral Nagala..."

"I heard you the first time, Major Lyceus. What I'm waiting for an explanation of what the First Judge Advocate wants with my daughter-in-law."

"Daughter-in-law?" Lieutenant Torris echoed, his voice a good bit deeper than she expected. "Her jacket said nothing of a marriage."

Caroline kept her eyes on the Major. "Does that jacket report that she is a legally-emancipated individual under my personal sponsorship, or detail the circumstances under which she was unceremoniously ejected from Marshfields?"

"Yes, Ma'am. It does."

"Then you understand I'm _not_ enthusiastic about your renewed interest in her?"

"Um, yes, Ma'am."

Caroline eyed him sternly. "Major, does you vocabulary extend any further than 'yes', and 'Ma'am'?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

The officer was saved from further comment by the fortuitous return of Nurse Gorgo with Doctor Solon. The former's presence, thankfully, had the same affect on the officers as it had on Lee only minutes earlier, momentarily silencing them and allowing Caroline to turn her attention to the doctor. "Doctor Solon, I presume?" she asked with an extended hand.

"Yes, ma'am." Caroline managed not to smile as Solon took the offered hand gently and asked in return, "You are?"

"Caroline Adama."

"Ah. So you're Ms. Thrace's...?"

"Mother-in-law -- eventually, anyway."

"Have you spoken with Lieutenant Adama?"

"I have. My son tells me Kara's going to be alright."

"Eventually," Doctor Solon stated without a hint of irony or amusement. Caroline found herself liking the youngish doctor, considerably more than the self-important Major Lyceus.

Rather than risk letting the officer forcefully insert himself into the conversation and muddy it up, she took the lead. "Kara has _just_ awakened, as I'm sure your nurse has informed you. May we speak _after_ you've checked up on her?"

"Absolutely. Excuse me, please." Major Lyceus sensed the _out _she had provided and wisely taken it as quickly as decorum would allow. Lieutenant Torris slipped into the room after him, so casually his presence wasn't missed until well after the fact.

Caroline turned her attention back to Major Lyceus, taking advantage of her temporary momentum. "Major? I should inform you I still have legal authority concerning Kara's well-being." This was technically accurate, although practically speaking it was as much an _over_statement as saying Lake Cyrl was _a little wet_ was an _under_statement. "If you're here to drag her back to Fleet HQ or elsewhere, I promise you all sorts of legal trouble..."

Major Lyceus quickly held up his hand and nearly bellowed "Mrs. Adama, please!" He took a calming breath before continuing. "I assure you, on my word as an officer, we are _not _here to 'drag' Lieutenant Thrace anywhere. Lieutenant Torris and Sergeant Garth here are to ensure her safety while I get a statement from her."

"A statement concerning what, may I ask?"

"The circumstances under which she came to be hospitalized." He gave her a hard look and added, "We've been on watch for her for the last four years, Mrs. Adama, but haven't dared deliberately search for her for fear we'd tip someone off. We feared the worst when her name appeared on the Sparta Police datanet."

"I -- see." Caroline looked at the young officer with fresh eyes, catching for the first time how his eyes roamed everywhere and nowhere, and how – despite his uniform marking him as a staffer – he was armed with the same heavy-caliber sidearm as the silent and scowling Sergeant Garth, who had taken up position by the door without anyone noticing, carried. Being the bureaucrats and technicians that kept the shuttles and skydocks running on time, staffers were rarely issued weapons of any sort. Certainly not hand artillery designed to take down Cylon Centurions. Clearly, Nagala had left out a few things about Kara's relevance the last time he had mentioned the whole Favor's Trading mess.

She didn't really fault him that; finding out dozen of qualified Viper pilots were being deliberately sidelined to Marshfields, then blackmailed into to virtual prostitution on behalf the unsavory friends of select Admirals and even a few of the Quorum, wasn't a topic for dinner discussion between family friends. The fact that the whole thing started unraveling only because one such washout filed a sexual harassment complaint against a mid-level instructor-slash-_procurer_ for those characters definitely qualified as cosmic irony.

Now that same washout was lying in a hospital bed in Sparta, badly beaten and presumably helpless. This doubtless left her to appear a tempting target for that ugly network that had yet to be caught. She would kick herself later for not thinking of this herself from the start.

"Major Lyceus, I think I owe you a bit of an apology."

"That's quite alright, Mrs. Adama." His face was so closed she could not hope to tell if he really satisfied with her simple admission. "Let me further assure you neither I nor my men will not make any move without approval from Lieutenant Thrace's doctor here." He turned his ever-moving eyes on her. "And not without your clear awareness, as well. Acceptable to you?"

"Well I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"No, Ma'am. I don't think any of us do."

* * *

Doctor Solon exited Kara's room shortly thereafter, motioning for Caroline to follow him a few steps down the hallway so they would be out of earshot of those still in the room. Major Lyceus trailed closely behind them, being remarkably unobtrusive about it.

"Mrs. Adama..." the doctor started, only to pause when she realized they were not alone.

Caroline introduced them. "This is Major Lyceus from the Judge Advocate Division. You may speak freely before him."

"Very well," Solon nodded, giving the earnest-looking officer another glance before addressing Caroline. "Kara is recovering nicely. She will need to keep her chest wrapped for a few more weeks to ensure her ribs heal properly. I am still rather worried about her head. She isn't showing any signs of concussion or deeper injury, but I prefer being safe here."

Caroline had to force the question from her lips. "What about her left eye?"

"The x-rays we took detected no damage to either the optic nerve, the socket or the eyeball itself. We've got it covered just as a precaution while the swelling goes down."

"I see. And how much longer do you plan to keep her here?"

"A week at least. Maybe longer if we detect any delayed effects from her injuries."

"Such as?" Major Lyceus asked politely.

"Um, nerve or sensory damage. Most of the blunt-force damage appears confined to her torso, but head wounds are always tricky. We'll be watching out for memory problems as well. Besides, it looks as if her arms were pretty well twisted up. Not to the point they were broken, but damned close." It was Solon's turn to frown. "Can I ask why you're here, Major?"

"I'm to determine if this attack has anything to do with an incident Lieutenant Thrace was involved in some years back."

"That's all?"

"Depending on what I learn from her, yes. Regardless, I'll be leaving both of my men here until she's discharged." He leaned closer and dropped his voice. "I'd also request you limit the number of your staff with access to the Lieutenant, Doctor. My superiors have expressed considerable worry about Lieutenant Thrace's safety."

"You don't think any of the staff here..."

"It wouldn't be the first time a witness has been 'lost' while in a hospital, either civilian or military, Doctor."

Solon exchanged a surprised look with Caroline, who could only offer a small shrug as a reply. "Um, in that case, shouldn't one of your men be a medic or..."

"Lieutenant Torris is a certified field and trauma surgeon. His orders are to observe all examinations from here on."

"Ah," was Doctor Solon's only immediate response. "You realize this is a civilian facility..."

"I have written authorization from the General Board of Surgeons to allow this. Or do I need to have the patient transported to a military facility, Doctor?"

"It's not that, Major. I'd just rather not have a bunch of military types cluttering the halls here..."

"It will be at most myself, Lieutenant Torris and Sergeant Garth for the time being." Lyceus glanced back over his shoulder towards the doorway. "If circumstances change we'll make alternate arrangements then. Agreed?"

Doctor Solon put up both hands as if in surrender. "Fine, fine. Just please let us know if you're going to start filling the corridor with heavy artillery, okay?"

"You have my word," Major Lyceus nodded. "About limiting the number of staff on her case, Doctor?"

"It will just be myself and Nurse Gorgo monitoring Kara. Oh, and someone from the night shift when we're both off-shift. I'll be sure to introduce them beforehand."

"Please do."

"Um, excuse me?" Caroline interjected. "Does this limited access extend to family?"

"Ah, right." Major Lyceus nodded to himself. "Certainly you and Lieutenant Adama can stay as long as Doctor Solon has no objections." Solon simply nodded in agreement, still looking a tad uncomfortable with all this attention on his patient.

"What about my younger son?" Caroline pressed.

"Again, so long as Doctor Solon allows it. I would ask you or Lieutenant Adama introduce him and anyone else to Sergeant Garth and Lieutenant Torris."

"Okay, fine."

"Thank you. Excuse me, please." The Major didn't wait for a response as he moved to speak quietly with Torris, who had trailed behind Nurse Gorgo as she exited the room. Caroline would have followed him if Doctor Solon hadn't chosen that moment to address her.

"Mrs. Adama? You have Kara listed on your benefits roll, correct?"

"Yes. I presume Lee has already given you her ID number?"

"Yeah, he did. I just need to confirm the next of kin and who has decision-making power here."

"Ah, right." She scratched her chin for a moment before answering. "Um, well, her birth mother is long dead, and Kara has been legally emancipated for the last six years." Caroline though for another moment before stating "I guess it would be myself. I was appointed her legal sponsor during her emancipation, so I'm the closest thing to a legal guardian she has on record."

"Okay. And your son? He's been saying he's her fiancée."

"He is. But I would prefer it if any decisions were run through me _first_. I don't -- I'm not sure I trust Lee to keep a clear head about her." She sighed and asked, "Can we keep that part quiet for the time being?" she asked.

"Um..." Solon hedged before answering. "You realize though I can't keep things from my patient."

"I'm not asking you to," Caroline insisted. "I just -- she might not take my involvement too well just now." She wasn't sure _she_ could keep a very clear head here either. Lords knew Kara's earlier reaction to her presence earlier hadn't reinforced her confidence any.

If Kara had actually _heard _and ever recalled even a fraction of her earlier confessions, well, Caroline would count herself eternally blessed if the girl ever deemed to just _tolerate_ her presence for a few minutes at a stretch from now on. This, of course, would lead to her having to tell Lee everything as well. And who knew where that would lead?

Caroline gave the doctor a wavering smile and was about to advise that a second hospital bed be readied when they both heard a choked wail drift out from the room. Thankfully, Lyceus and Torris had moved away and apparently didn't hear it, and Nurse Gorgo was no longer in sight.

_Oh gods. What now?_ Caroline wondered as she and Solon moved to room's doorway.

TBC...

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Next installment will (I hope) becoming later this week. Trouble is the pilots aren't being very cooperative; maybe a few reviews will get them to behave. Please help!_


	7. Disconnections

_Part Seven: Disconnection_

Left to themselves and having made their quiet greetings, neither Lee nor Kara could meet each other's eyes. Kara's outburst seemed to echo off the walls of the room, even after Caroline and Nurse Gorgo had exited the room. There didn't seem words adequate or capable of drowning it out, never mind breaching the resultant silence or calm the growing tension in the air.

Unable to look at Lee and equally unable to keep her one eye from wandering, Kara let her conscious awareness drift along with her gaze. Admittedly, she wasn't able to sense much past the tightness in her chest and general fuzziness in her head. This annoyed her to no end, since she had survived much of the last four years being almost hyper-aware of her surroundings.

Since this wider avenue of distraction was closed, she turned her attention to study what little she _could _perceive. Every breath felt like it rattled up and down her chest, which itself felt like a gods-be-damned Raptor was sitting atop it. The experimental flexing of her legs and shoulders didn't encounter any unusual resistance, although did cause her limbs to virtually explode with pins-and-needles that drove clean down to the bones, which was nearly enough to make her fall back into unconscious.

Clearing her throat was no less painful, although it helped focus her perceptions enough to get beyond the immediate discomfort. Strangely, it was also enough to clear her head enough that she could start to differentiate between the textures of the bed sheets, her hospital gown, the bandages, and the odd-feeling paper in her right hand.

The bed sheets were stiff and scratchy, the gown was soft yet stiff, the bandages were soft but smelled of antiseptic, and the paper in her right hand felt -- familiar.

Her eye darted down to that hand, carefully avoiding the body standing nearby, and focused on small slips of paper. Except they weren't paper, as such. They were photographs.

Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. Her now-numb fingers worked to get a better feel of how many photographs were there. She had no idea how long Lee had been in her apartment, so it could be he'd found...

There were only two in her hand and both were small, thank the gods. She figured this meant they likely weren't the ones she'd kept all these years. Which meant Lee _still _didn't know about...

That happy thought died as she squinted to see the images. Images she knew very, _very_ well. The fact they were in _her_ hand at that very moment and _not_ back in her apartment told her many things that cut through her slightly drugged mind.

It told her Lee had been in her apartment far longer than she had feared.

It told her that Lee had found her photos.

It told her that Lee must have found the third image she had kept.

Which meant that Lee had seen…

Kara felt her lungs start to labor rapid-time, independent of all conscious control, but she perceived this only distantly. Lee's form, which had suddenly taken colossus-sized proportion, was what took up her whole awareness. The strong hand that lay so gently on her arm was like Mount Olympus crushing and overwhelming her.

"Kara?" She didn't merely flinch when she heard his quiet, frightened voice; she jumped half out of her skin and nearly out of the bed entirely.

"Kara!" Lee shouted it this time, or so it sounded to her, and this had her almost jumping to the furthest wall. Or out the window, which would have proved closer and frankly more desirable. Her thoughts became manic as she wondered if Lee would cheer or curse her flight; it was impossible to believe he would follow her.

She lost opportunity to do either as a lean man in a doctor's apron entered the room just then. Kara squinted to read his nametag and tried to relax, only to be thwarted by the tears that had sprung up, and by Lee's continued proximity. How the frak was she supposed to relax _or_keep a clear head when she had the reborn Colossus of Caan towering over her?

The doctor opened with, "Hello, Karissa. I'm Doctor Solon."

Hearing her formal name gave her anger enough to focus past her terrors. "M'name's no' Kar-sissa!" she slurred fiercely. "'S Kara!"

Neither Solon nor Gorgo appeared affected by this outburst; a complete contrast to the half-choked chuckle issued by Lee. Kara glared up at him, having to crane her stiff neck to do so. As a result, her eye misted again as much from the exertion as from the adrenaline surge she'd been riding suddenly tapering off, leaving her vulnerable to the distress pouring off Lee like a waterfall.

She could never remember hating him more than that very moment, hating herself with equal force, and in another breath she would voice her rage and wrath against the gods themselves.

Doctor Solon easily pulled her attention back to him. "Kara?"

Her eye snapped back onto him. "Huh?"

"Good, good. No difficulty with your hearing or perception. Follow my finger please." He extended his first left finger and slowly tracked it from right to left. She followed it easily. "Excellent." Next, he unwound the stethoscope from his neck and placed the drum over her heart, nodding to himself and placing it on both the left and right sides of her chest. He nodded again. "You're healing nicely, Mrs. Adama."

"M'name's Thrace."

"As you wish, Mrs. Thrace." Kara rolled her eye, apparently resigning herself to having her name continually misstated here. Solon continued breezily, saying, "Your sensory reactions all appear normal, so there's no indication you've suffered brain damage. Your fiancée here..."

"Wuh?" Maybe she had suffered brain damage, as the doctor could _not_ have just said what she thought he had. "My -- who?'

"Lieutenant Adama here." Solon waved towards Lee's general direction but had eyes only for the clipboard he'd retrieved from the foot of her bed. "I'm very glad your mother, sorry, mother-in-law showed up and sent him home for a bit." He looked at Lee quickly. "No offense, Lieutenant, but you were getting ripe."

"None taken," Lee stated blandly.

The doctor's words turned the weight on Kara's chest went from simply heavy to absolutely crushing. Worse, the bandages around her head started to itch like mad, as every pore opened its floodgates, soaking them in cold sweat as those same words sunk in.

She _hadn't _imagined Lee's voice talking to her? He _still_ claimed her as his own? _He_ was the reason Hades turned tail and ran? After everything she'd _done_ to him, to them?

Had the whole frakking world gone mad, or just her?

The doctor was speaking again. "We're going to keep your chest wrapped awhile longer, Kara. But the bandages can come off your head tomorrow if the x-rays show the swelling has gone down. Do you think you can eat a little?"

Kara had no answer for him as she was still debating the comparative sanity of her versus the wider world, deciding it was a dead-heat. The doctor took her distracted silence for acquiescence and promised a meal would be delivered. He then said something supportive-sounding to Lee, and left with Nurse Gorgo trailing close behind.

Lee followed them, but only far enough to nudge the door half-shut. She noted how he paused for a moment in doing so, but only for a moment. Whatever he'd seen left him worried, but apparently not sufficiently so that he didn't hasten back to her side and retake his seat there.

Lethargy settled over her, mind and heart too exhausted by the dozen-odd revelations and reactions she'd just survived to do more than lay there. Thankfully, Lee had shrunk back to his normal proportions by that point, and she felt -- she had _no_ idea what she felt at that moment.

No. She knew _exactly_ what she felt; the problem was it was a veritable stream of competing impulses, each flowing over each other and none achieving dominance or allowing her to focus beyond the moment.

She felt radiant joy knowing that he was sitting there.

She felt as close to an outright panic attack as she'd ever experienced knowing that he was sitting there.

She felt her heart thunder in a way it hadn't in over five years, knowing _he was sitting there._

She felt utter fury, such to put the Furies themselves to shame, knowing _that he was sitting there._

Joy, panic, fury, terror, more joy, more fury, and more _everything_ flowed through her, all of it coming from knowing that _he was sitting there_. Worse, _he was looking right at her._

And when she couldn't take the fact _he was sitting there and looking right at her _any longer, Kara screwed her eye shut hoping that shutting out the sight of _him sitting there and looking right at her_ would give her some respite. Sadly, Lee apparently did not notice the not-very-subtle signals she was sending him, as he actually reached out and touched her arm, which just started the cycle over again.

Agony covered her from toes to crown.

Fire burned her to the bone.

It was a promise, unspoken but there; one that wiped away all other things and thoughts, good and ill.

It broke every wall she might have erected between her shriveled soul and the wider world.

That touch was enough to leave her weak and defenseless in the face ofeverything she'd spent so long guarding against. Lee might as well have pulled his sidearm and put a bullet in her, the way she felt.

And Lee, being Lee, clearly wasn't content with just destroying her that way. Oh, no. Then he went ahead and said the _second _most terrible thing that could have been conceived in all the history of every language ever spoken.

"I know about the baby, Kara." To which, just for affect, he added, "It doesn't matter…"

The rest was drowned out by her response: a wail one only heard in the lowest depths of Tartarus.

* * *

Kara wouldn't be able to immediately account for what happened next because she simply wasn't present for it. To be sure she was all there physically.

The rest of her was somewhere else entirely, wisely retreating far, far away for a bit.

* * *

In her mind's eye, Hades had _not _turned tail but instead had trapped her in some diabolical insanity he'd concocted – in cahoots with the Furies – expressly for _her. _Somehow the thought pleased her no end, given her numerous transgressions and sins.

_Disloyal daughter_, so quick to flee the woman the gods had given her to.

_Undisciplined cadet_, with a (presumably) unmatched record of demerits against her name.

_Reckless pilot_, with a (presumably) unmatched record of 'What Not to Do' notes against her flight records.

_Disobedient soldier_, refusing orders that turned her stomach from a superior who made her gag.

_Untalented athlete_, one too stupid to realize her opponents would quit playing according to the rules.

_Oath breaker_, so quick to promise herself to a man out of her league and equally quick to flee him.

_Baby killer._

What more needed be said? She deserved every torment laid upon her.

* * *

Except -- there was no torment to be had where she was. There wasn't even a 'where' involved.

Just -- nothing.

Kara knew that, despite Lee's best efforts and her wishes to the contrary, she wasn't dead. She didn't think she was simply unconscious either. This was confirmed when her private world exploded with light and sound, against which she could only moan and instinctively raise her unencumbered arm in an effort to shield her eyes.

Blinking back the spots dancing madly over her vision, Kara looked around the room. Only in retrospect was she surprised at the action. Even then it was a _muted_ surprise amid the realizations that, first, both her eyes were uncovered and, second, it was natural sunlight that was leaving her momentarily blind.

She turned her barely-clear sight onto the person by the windows, at which point a third realization hit, doing so with sufficient force it drowned out the first two almost completely: Kara had expected it to be Nurse Gorgo.

It was Caroline Adama, who looked over at her with a well stirred mix of chagrin, apology and something resembling fear. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Kara found herself believing it, although later she would claim temporary confusion and residual disorientation from whatever drugs they had pumped into her. Her tongue felt unnaturally thick, making words difficult. "S'okay," was all she could immediately manage. She reached for the cup on her bed-tray. Caroline was quick to move over and fetch it for her.

"Here. Let me." Kara did as bade, mainly because she found herself too weak to move her arms with any genuine dexterity. Caroline filled the cup with clear water and held it for her, maneuvering the straw to her lips, just as Lee had done. She took three measured sips, blinking against the sunlight filling the room and marveling at how badly the left side of her face ached.

"Why're you here?" she asked the room with a shaking sigh, silently relieved Caroline was staying near the windows and thereby saving Kara the pain of having to look at her.

"Um, Lee had to go..." Kara's snort, one more of resignation than disappointment, prompted Caroline to add, "We weren't going to leave you _alone_, Kara."

Again, Kara found herself immediately believing her words. "S'again, why're you here?"

Caroline asked her very quietly, "Do you want me to leave?"

Gods help her, Kara wanted to scream _No!_ Even as she equally wanted to scream _yes! _Unable to make sense of these competing impulses, she tossed it back to Caroline. "D'you wanna stay?"

"There's nowhere else I'd like to..."

"Fine," Kara snapped, fatigue defeating her and causing her to drop back completely. Unconsciousness did not come this time, much to her dismay. Life was doing that a lot to her lately, leaving her dismayed that it wasn't done kicking her around. The last five years hadn't been easy by any stretch, but the past couple days...well, she hadn't felt this physically battered since the truck hit her.

She frowned and asked, "How long have I been out?"

"It's been a day and a half since you fainted," Caroline reported bluntly. "I'm sorry for leaving you and Lee like that. I should have known he'd push and say the wrong thing." The apology and sentiments were both genuine.

For Kara's part, words suddenly failed her after an aborted "I -- uh -- what?" Her memory was a collection of jagged-edged recollections, none of them recent or relevant. Her avoidance of Caroline was, at least for the moment, based on her being near the too-bright windows and not some negative moment between them. She tried again after a moment's contemplation. "Lee did what?"

"Well I presume he pushed an issue I distinctly told him _not_ to while I was outside keeping the wolves at bay."

"Uh, wolves?"

"Nothing for you to worry about just now, Kara. You're only job is to rest and recover from this sad business."

Kara felt herself becoming more and more confused, recent memories starting to surface and click back into proper places. "You -- you, um, know -- about…?"

"About?" Caroline, unlike her son, was wise enough to allow her daughter (there was no hesitation in the thought anymore) to take the lead in the conversation. Besides, there was her own memory of Doctor Solon's less-restrained chiding of Lee for his error. Caroline preferred being the one to bitch someone down and out, not to be the party receiving it.

She tried to have no expectations and not project anything onto the troubled girl in the bed. Trust issues were something she had plenty of experience with and so could read the signs. Hence, she remained where she was, determined not to approach the bed or even move unless invited.

Restraint didn't mean she was going to remain silent. "Kara?"

"Uh, where am I?"

"Taulycus Memorial Hospital, in Sparta," Caroline reported with a calm she did not actually feel.

"'Kay. Why am I -- wait -- I got -- got beat up, didn't I? I think that's what happened." Before Caroline could confirm this, Kara continued. "Yeah yeah. An' the next thing I know Lee's there, I mean _really_ there and not some ghost I'd been dreamin' up for years now." She wiped her face with both hands, and then studied them with a frown. "I -- I think I heard him. Yeah, I definitely _heard _him." She gave a quick glance towards Caroline and added, "I heard you, too. 'Cept I can't -- remember what you both were sayin'."

"We were talking to keep you tethered to us here," Caroline explained evenly, the way one does when attempting to swallow emotions too powerful for mere words.

"Feels -- important -- I remember somethin'..." Kara frowned, eyes now open and clear. Caroline unconsciously braced herself for anything, even considered whether a quick prayer to the Lords would be in order should Kara rightly demand her head.

But no such demand was forthcoming, at least not at that moment. If anything, Kara had appeared to retreat ever deeper into herself. Caroline was unsure whether this was natural in such cases, never mind whether it was a positive or negative development. She nevertheless resolved to remain quiet for the moment and allow Kara her space to return to herself.

* * *

Kara was certain she knew more than she remembered, which was a weirdly frakked up way of saying her head was trying to tell her something important but wasn't able to get it out yet. Frakking drugs were frakking with her already frakked-up head. Frak she couldn't even recall what had gotten her beat up in the first place. Probably it was something illegal.

Unable to make sense of these otherwise sensible thoughts, she decided to re-test her physical limits. It was easier than risking another look towards Caroline, which wasn't saying much as her muscles didn't want to cooperate.

Temporarily conceding defeat there, Kara decided to study the uninteresting wall before her while she gathered her strength. Caroline remained by the window, apparently unwilling to move just yet.

Kara broke the silence. "Um…" This was enough to cause Caroline to jump a little. Kara either didn't notice or didn't acknowledge this, although it was her turn to flinch at Caroline's hasty reply.

"Yes?"

"Uh, how long?"

"Kara?"

"How long've I been here?"

Caroline had to think this through. "Oh, uh, about four or five days." It took her an extra beat and a couple eye blinks to process that.

It took Kara many more beats and a lot of eye blinks to process that. "That long?"

"I'm afraid so." Caroline held back a tired sigh; Kara did not need more ammunition to use against herself right now.

"Frak!" Kara burst out after a moment's contemplation.

"Excuse me, young lady?"

"I -- I gotta -- gotta go pay -- my -- my rent!"

It was all Caroline could do not to laugh at those desperate, ridiculous words, instinctively knowing Kara would not understand the hilarity involved. "That's not a concern," she managed to say in a half-choked voice.

"Huh?" was Kara's puzzled response.

"I said: that's not a concern."

"Right. Like you're gonna pay it." Caroline found it surprisingly easy _not_ to take offense at this rude, disbelieving snort. If anything, it sharpened matters to crystal clarity for her.

Kara honestly and truly believed she was alone, utterly and completely _alone_ in all this.

Not that it wasn't hard to blame her for that; it wasn't as if either Lee or herself had torn the Colonies apart looking for her until after the trail had gone cold. And certainly, her treatment at the Marshfields, if it had been anything like the two dozen other Favors had sworn to, had likely only reinforced her supposed isolation.

Thank the gods that was all over. Now it was just a matter of convincing Kara she was safe and _not_ let her pull another runner.

The Twelve Great Labors looked positively simple in comparison.

TBC...

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Review pleez!!_


	8. Disengagement, Engagement

_Part Eight: Disengagement, Engagement_

In an unmatched record for one so young during a time of (relative) peace, Lee Adama had racked up eight citations for bravery. This was an understated way of saying he had pulled himself and others through fire, sometimes literally, and emerged unscathed. Most pilots had one or two in their service jackets, acquired over the length of their careers, but eight suggested either a consummate risk-taker or someone with an outright death wish.

Lee himself would have been hard pressed to put himself exclusively into either category.

The moment Kara opened her mouth and wailed like one of the damned, he wouldn't have qualified for either. It was all he could do not to flee and huddle in a convenient corner.

His mother and Doctor Solon burst back into the room, all but pushing him out of the way. The former was quick to take Kara's hand and make comforting noises while the latter looked over the readings of the various monitors she was attached to.

Lee tried not to feel jealous of how his mother was able to quiet Kara so quickly, doing nothing more than petting her forehead and crooning softly. How did she manage to soothe Kara so when all _he_ was apparently capable of was causing more pain? What the hell was wrong with him?

He barely noticed that Kara fell silent once more, never mind how his mother glared at him and lead him from the room by the elbow. His eyes and awareness were for Kara alone; even when they were outside and she was no longer in immediate sight, he heard his mother's chiding only from a distance.

"What were you thinking, Lee?" she hissed fiercely.

"I..."

"What? Hasn't she suffered enough? Did you have to..."

"I didn't..." Lee tried to defend, only for Caroline to steamroll over him as usual.

"Well what happened in there?"

"I just told her..."

Further discussion was halted by Doctor Solon exiting the room and mirroring Caroline's glare. "What in blazes were you thinking, Lieutenant?"

"I was just asking him..." Caroline started, but now it was Lee's turn to explode, however momentarily.

"Nothing!" he snarled, quietly, so he would not be heard through the surrounding walls. The fury behind it, however, was enough that the foundations of the building should have shaken. It was enough to silence his two well-intentioned antagonists, long enough at least for him to gather his scattered wits. "All I said, _all_ I said to her, was 'hi'."

"Before or after I checked on her?" Solon asked, cooling his tone.

"Before."

"And after I left?"

"I told her that I..." Lee felt himself go cold as space, the words freezing in his throat.

"What?" the doctor prompted.

"I told -- I said I knew about the baby."

"That's all?" his mother asked skeptically.

"No." Lee swallowed around the thick ball of anxiety that suddenly lodged in his throat. "I tried to tell her it -- it..."

Caroline clearly had some idea of what was coming. "Lee?" she asked, sounding at once nervous and resigned. "What did you say?"

"I tried to tell her it didn't matter what happened, that it -- it didn't change my feelings..."

"In exactly those words?" His mother sounded like she was ready to simultaneously smack him and hug him.

"Pretty much. She started screaming before I could say more than how it didn't matter."

"Oh, Lee! I told you we were going to discuss..."

"Don't start, okay, mom? I know I just frakked up." Turning his attention to the doctor, who looked even less pleased, Lee asked "How is she? Really?"

"Asleep, thank Asclepius. Looks like she just fainted."

Lee frowned. "Should she be sleeping this much? It's been three, four days now."

"She's also just come out of nearly 24 hours of surgery, on top of which her blood work and vitals suggest she's been undernourished and overstressed for gods know how long. Her cholesterol count is so high I'm amazed her arteries aren't rock-solid."

Lee raised both hands to forestall further commentary. "Okay, she's been eating crap and probably drinking too much coffee. What's to be done about it?"

"I'll have her on a nutrient drip while she's asleep and make damned sure she gets more fluids." He looked at Lee directly. "And just on the off-chance she wakes up sometime soon, I'm also barring you from her room for the next 48 hours, Lieutenant."

"Try it," was Lee's only response. The doctor had apparently forgotten Lee was armed. As had Lee himself apparently, since he was clenching teeth and fists.

Caroline stepped into the momentary breach, putting a hand on Lee's shoulder asshe said, "Lee, there's a Major from the Fleet here you should probably speak to."

Her words took a few moments for her words to sink in, the standoff between Lee and the doctor slow to crack. "The two officers I saw you speaking with a couple minutes ago?" he asked ultimately asked, looking over to her.

"A Major Lyceus is here from the Judge Advocate Division. There are some things you need to know."

"What about?"

"About Kara and her time at Marshfields."

"She -- what?" Lee found himself momentarily stumped. He knew Kara had been at the reservist academy, and that she'd had some distant hand it its closure. What that had to do with her current condition was a puzzle. "Okay," Lee said slowly, trying hard to conceal just how disturbed he was. Truth be told he hadn't been so detached that he missed hearing about the Marshfields closing entirely; he simply didn't know spit about the events that immediately preceded it. It had actually given him a sort of subversive joy that so many notables within the Fleet's hierarchy were being hauled out or publicly shamed, if only for the pain he suspected it caused his long-absent father.

Through it all, he'd caught a whisper or two about Kara being involved in any way. The prospects were -- disturbing. Oh, gods, he wondered suddenly. Was _that_ what had landed her here? The urge to set up camp outside her door was suddenly all the more overwhelming. He'd need reinforcements, big time, if he was going to ensure _nothing_ could hurt her like this again.

It had the secondary effect of clearing his head enough that simple practicalities put paid to such thoughts. For one thing, he was only one man, with one small gun, against gods knew how many potential assassins. _If _there were any assassins involved in the first place.

The burst of paranoia and adrenaline that line of thought invoked left him momentarily dizzy; the complications and possibilities overwhelmed him.

Worse, his second pass was going to expire soon. Major Corel was going to want words with him before issuing another, never mind authorize so much as a single day's leave. Sure he could just hand in his wings as he was just two moons out from his term of enlistment finishing; he's stored up over a year's leave that could cover it. But that would leave him without the resources he'd need to protect Kara, wouldn't it? So, like it or not, resigning his commission just wasn't an available option at that moment.

At that point, the rest of his mother's words fully penetrated. Apparently he wasn't the only one worried for her safety. Perversely, this actually angered more than reassured him; Kara was _his_, godsdammit, and the rest of the universe had absolutely no frakking business getting involved with _their_ business.

Lee felt himself almost giggle when he realized how cracked his thoughts were starting to go. Kara Thrace was like a drug more dangerous than SnoFlake; one Lee knew he would never get enough of and could never hope, or ever want, to get cleaned out of his system.

Seeing both his mother and the doctor were staring at him now, Lee summoned a contrite expression and asked "Doctor? You were saying something about her treatment?"

"We'll have her on fluids and under close observation. Between the police and that Marine over there, I'm sure she'll be well looked after." Lee glanced in the direction Solon indicated, noting that indeed there was a Marine in khakis alongside one of the Sparta Police, both of whom were eying each other and everyone else with unconcealed caution.

"I'm still barred from sitting with her?" he asked.

"Sitting with her while she's asleep, no. Sitting with her while she's awake, yes. _Talking_ to her until I can trust you aren't going to drive her to stroke out, absolutely!"

"Okay, fine," he ultimately agreed, much to the obvious shock of his mother and the doctor. Lee met the physician's glare full on, but decided not to return it. He needed Solon on his side, or at least neutral towards him, so he could get access to Kara once her recovery and safety were secured.

His mother looked at him with a hint of suspicion, but apparently was waging some internal debate with herself as well. Lee didn't wish to give her time to come up with some other objection so he asked her directly, "You said there were some Fleet officers here?"

"Uh, yes. Yes. He should be around here, well, somewhere."

"Okay, fine." He was short on words at that point and needed to disengage from this. "I'm going to go talk with them for a bit. Mom, will you stay with Kara?"

"Of course."

"Right. I'll just go and -- speak with this Major. What was his name?"

"Lyceus."

"Okay, fine. Lyceus." Lee gave his mother a quick peck on the cheek, an even quicker look at the Marine holding up the opposite wall (whose eyes he could feel burning into his back), and beat a hasty exit to the elevators.

He needed distance to get some better perspective of the metaphorical terrain. If the Fleet was expressing interest in Kara, he needed to know why and what they knew about her. It would definitely impact on what sort of assets he'd need here if they turned out to be hostiles; they were more likely friendlies, but he couldn't take it for granted.

Funny how he was approaching all this now as if he were planning a ground-air op aboard _Atlantia_. Perhaps those years in both the cockpit and war college weren't wholly wasted.

There was also the small fact he was getting light-headed and still had a mild headache; the former was most likely from the lack of real food and rest that didn't require any 'medication' beforehand. The headache was the residue from the limited intake of the hard stuff he'd used to knock himself out. At least he wasn't suffering anything worse for the moment.

Doubtless, the _real _pain would start once he started getting answers from Major Lyceus. And especially from Kara herself, when she finally woke up. _That_ would take considerably more care than he had employed so far.

There was one other reason Lee knew he needed to put some distance between them both for the time being; he absolutely could _not _afford another misstep like the one he'd just made with her.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy for Lee to find Major Lyceus and his subordinate, as both were sitting in the hospital's commissary. Lee himself had gone there with the intent of getting some food and perspective. He was paying for his choice of sandwich, salad and bottled juice when he first caught sight of them. They were staying so unobtrusive, despite their uniforms and the fact that the commissary was virtually deserted despite the mid-day hour, he very nearly missed them.

That alone had Lee immediately adjusting his estimations of both men and prompted a more careful visual study of them from where he ultimately settled himself..

He had encountered enough of a cross-section of JAD attorneys and staffers over the years that common mannerisms could be found; neither of these men looked the sedentary sort and both lacked the introverted manner he'd normally encountered with the JAD staff. Their claims then of coming from the JAD were dubious, to say the least.

Major Lyceus in fact reminded Lee of his own CAG back on _Atlantia_, who was such a bundle of barely-leashed tension most days it was amazing anyone (besides himself) dared approach him for anything. The Major was sitting only slightly hunched over his long-finished meal, eyes flickering between the small pile of file folders open before him and random areas of the commissary. There was nothing threatening about his stance, but nothing relaxed either. Lee concluded he'd been spotted the instant he stepped into the area, but the Major himself was clearly awaiting him to make any approach.

The other one, who sported Lieutenant's insignia, was somewhat more relaxed in his manner and posture. Lee suspected that was more because he was so intently focused upon what looked from a distance suspiciously like medical forms to the near-exclusion of everything else. The Lieutenant would make occasional notations in a separate notepad as he read, his bland expression never changing even as his eyes darted from one page to the next.

Lee ate silently, taking these impressions in carefully even as he resisted the urge to leap to conclusions. There was clearly more to these two than they presented. Neither man suggested any overt threat, which if anything made Lee even more cautious about them.

They didn't so much as look at him, yet Lee couldn't quite escape the feeling _he_was the one in someone's cannon-sights. He was strongly tempted to just get up and leave, if only to see if it would get even a half-second reaction from them.

Then he thought about Kara lying in her bed two floors above them, and how he hadn't even noticed the Marine guard nearby until he'd been pointed out by Doctor Solon. The need for confrontation replaced the petty urge to just walk off.

_Hades,_ Lee wondered, finishing his food and disposing of the plates and rubbish. _Who were these guys? More importantly, what did they want with Kara? _He could easily guess a dozen different scenarios to both questions, each more fantastic and frightening than the one before. But guesswork went only so far and afforded too much space for the fantastic, something he again could ill afford, given Kara's location and condition.

He needed something more substantial than last season's re-runs of _Delta Team - Picon _and _Gold Coast Unit_ to reach any workable conclusions; and the silence between them all was doing no one any good. Kara least of all.

Lee straightened his shoulders and marched to stand before the two officers. He snapped a perfect parade-ground salute and stated in the most disciplined and respectful voice he could muster "Sirs, Lieutenant Lee Adama." He didn't look at either man, rather keeping his eyes focused on the concrete wall directly opposite him.

Only the senior officer stood and returned the salute. "Good afternoon – and stand at ease – Lieutenant Adama." The Major waved for him to be seated. "I'm Major Lyceus of the Judge Advocate Division. And this," he gestured to the still-sorting-and-notating junior officer. "This is Lieutenant Torris, who is our medical resource here. Please sit and relax, Lieutenant."

Lee complied with only the first half of the order. His patience was so thin at that point he deliberately forgot decorum and addressed the Major directly.

"Who are you, and what do you want with Kara?"

_TBC…when you hit the arrow button!  
_


	9. Tangential Paths

_Part Nine: Tangential Paths That Are Not, In Fact, Tangential_

**Transcript Opens**

_Lyceus, Otto P., Major: _File FTS dash 92235661/Alpha dash Kappa Alpha Theta, Addendum Gamma-two. Major Otto Lyceus recording the sworn statement of Lieutenant Leland Adama. Time is…twelve hundred twenty-two on the 14th of Antioch, year 3002. Lieutenant Adama, do you consent to having this statement recorded?

_Adama, Leland J., Lieutenant: _I do. I wish to ask a question.

_Lyceus: _Go ahead.

_Adama: _Will this statement be used in any kind of legal proceeding? In which case I am obligated to have counsel present.

_Lyceus: _For the record, Lieutenant, this statement falls under Title Ten and Title Eleven materials. As such, they are not considered admissible in any proceeding outside a direct Court Martial of the subject. If you want to have counsel present, we can wait while we call someone in from the North Wing.

_Adama: _Another question, Major?

_Lyceus:_ Yes?

_Adama: _You understand I will stop this if I feel it necessary.

_Lyceus:_ Of course.

_Adama: _Okay, fine. Let's proceed.

_Lyceus:_ Very well. Lieutenant, please state your full name and service number for the record.

_Adama:_Adama, Leland Joseph. Service number 59041189. Current rank is Senior Lieutenant. Current assignment: Deputy Commander Air Group, Battlestar _Atlantia_.

_Lyceus: _How long have you been at your present posting?

_Adama: _Eight months, seventeen days.

_Lyceus:_ How long have you been planet-side?

_Adama:_Since the tenth.

_Lyceus:_ The tenth of Antioch?

_Adama: _Yes, Sir.

_Lyceus:_Please describe the nature of your business on Caprica.

_Adama:_I had been granted a 48-hour leave pass by my CAG, Major Ura Corel. My decision to come to Sparta was on a whim before I visited my family in Caprica City.

_Lyceus:_You have family here on Caprica?

_Adama:_ May I ask why this is important?

_Lyceus:_ Strictly for information, Lieutenant.

_Adama:_ Okay. Yes I do.

_Lyceus:_ May I ask who?

_Adama:_My mother lives in Caprica City.

_Lyceus:_ And your father?

_Adama: _Is Commander William Adama, commanding officer of the Battlestar _Galactica._

_Lyceus:_ Any siblings?

_Adama:_My younger brother is presently at Camp Rampell, undergoing orientation for admission to the Fleet Academy.

_Lyceus:_ Any other family members on-planet?

_Adama:_ No other immediate family. That's all I am prepared to say on this point.

_Lyceus:_ Very well. Question: do you count Kara Thrace as a member of your family?

_Adama:_ She is my fiancée, so yes, I do.

_Lyceus:_Were you aware of her presence here on Caprica when you landed?

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ How long have you known Lieutenant Thrace?

_Adama:_ Approximately ten years.

_Lyceus:_ How did you meet?

_Adama:_ Is this just for information as well?

_Lyceus:_ Yes. We are attempting to build as detailed a picture of Lieutenant Thrace's background as possible.

_Adama:_ She and I attended the same Second Form School. We met there.

_Lyceus:_ Would be willing to go into some detail there?

_Adama: _No.

_Lyceus:_ Very well.

_Adama:_ Who are you building this dossier for?

_Lyceus:_ Its part of a wider investigation. That's all.

_Adama:_ Is my family involved in this investigation?

_Lyceus: _Only so far as your close relationship with Lieutenant Trace does.

_Adama:_ I'm afraid I don't understand.

_Lyceus:_ We'll come to that in a moment, Lieutenant. I'd like to finish my first set of questions here.

_Adama:_ Um...

_Lyceus:_ Just say the word and we'll quit.

_Adama:_ Go ahead.

_Lyceus:_ According to Lieutenant Thrace's civilian physician, you summoned emergency services to her apartment on the evening of the tenth. Is that accurate**?**

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ Please explain how you came to find Lieutenant Thrace.

_Adama:_ I was walking along the Embankment sidewalk market on the afternoon of the tenth. It was there that I found an -- an item I believed belonged to Kara.

_Lyceus:_ This item was what?

_Adama:_ An artist's portfolio.

_Lyceus:_ Why did you think it belonged to Lieutenant Thrace?

_Adama:_ I -- it had her initials embossed on the cover. It was specially made for her. I recognized the design.

_Lyceus:_ You found this portfolio at the market?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ What happened when you determined it belonged to the Lieutenant Thrace?

_Adama:_ I questioned the seller, who confirmed he had obtained it...

_Lyceus:_ How did they acquire it?

_Adama:_ Through theft. At the time, I was simply assuming it had belonged to Kara.

_Lyceus:_ You had no verification of this?

_Adama:_ Not at the time, no.

_Lyceus:_ Did the seller, er, thief confirm where he got it?

_Adama:_ No, he couldn't tell me who owned it originally.

_Lyceus:_ But you assumed it was Lieutenant Thrace's?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ Okay. What did you do?

_Adama:_ The boy directed me to the location where he had stolen the portfolio. I followed his directions and went there.

_Lyceus:_ Did you consider contacting your Commander or anyone in the Fleet?

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ Can I ask why?

_Adama:_ I saw no reason to do so. This was a personal matter, not one that concerned the Colonial Fleet.

_Lyceus:_ You really...

_Adama:_ Major?

_Lyceus: _Lieutenant Adama, are you aware of any kind of "flags" on Lieutenant Thrace's name?

_Adama: _No, Sir.

_Lyceus:_ On the record?

_Adama:_ On the record, Major. I was not aware Kara's name was flagged in any way by any department in the Colonial Fleet.

_Lyceus:_ Okay. You weren't aware Lieutenant Thrace is considered a Person of Interest in any ongoing investigation or Fleet-related matter.

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ When did...

_Adama:_ What investigation?

_Lyceus:_ Excuse me?

_Adama:_ What investigation is Kara involved in?

_Lyceus:_ I didn't say she was involved, Lieutenant.

_Adama:_ Ah...no. No, you didn't.

_Lyceus:_ Back to the events on the tenth. When did you arrive at the location specified by the young man you'd questioned?

_Adama:_ Late afternoon. I don't have a name for him.

_Lyceus:_ The boy?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ What was the location he directed you to?

_Adama:_ An apartment complex four blocks from the Embankment.

_Lyceus:_ Any name for it?

_Adama:_ Not that I am aware of. I have the address.

_Lyceus:_ I'll ask for it later. Were the boy's directions accurate?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ You confirmed this how?

_Adama:_ He specified the apartment he'd broken into.

_Lyceus:_ By number?

_Adama:_ No. He identified it by general location in the building itself.

_Lyceus:_ You confirmed he's directions were accurate? How?

_Adama:_ I located the door to the apartment and gained entry.

_Lyceus:_ You broke in?

_Adama:_ No. The building supervisor let me in.

_Lyceus:_ His name?

_Adama:_ He didn't give it. And he didn't seem very surprised to see me there.

_Lyceus:_ Oh?

_Adama:_ Yeah. He, uh, was...

_Lyceus:_ What?

_Adama:_ He asked me several times if I was there...to arrest Kara.

_Lyceus:_ Arrest her?

_Adama:_ Yeah.

_Lyceus:_ Did you give him any reason to think you were there to do that?

_Adama:_ I -- no.

_Lyceus:_ Did he refer to Lieutenant Thrace by name?

_Adama:_ Uh, no.

_Lyceus:_ Yet he opened the apartment door for you?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ Why?

_Adama:_ I asked him.

_Lyceus:_ Did you encounter any difficulty entering the apartment?

_Adama:_ No. There was...well, nothing to speak of inside.

_Lyceus:_ Furniture?

_Adama:_ A sofa and some folding chairs. It was all...junk.

_Lyceus:_ Anything else?

_Adama:_ Her -- the bedroom.

_Lyceus:_ Yes?

_Adama:_ It was just a cot and a bureau.

_Lyceus:_ Personal effects?

_Adama:_ Some clothes. Military surplus, all of which needed washing.

_Lyceus:_ Anything else?

_Adama:_ Some items that...

_Lyceus:_ Items?

_Adama:_ Which confirmed it for me that Kara was living there.

_Lyceus:_ What -- never mind. These things confirmed it was Lieutenant Thrace?

_Adama:_ Without question.

_Lyceus:_ Right. Was Lieutenant Thrace there at the time?

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ What did you do next?

_Adama:_ I waited there.

_Lyceus:_ Did you have any information where she was? What she was doing?

_Adama:_ No. I just...

_Lyceus:_ Waited?

_Adama:_ Yeah.

_Lyceus:_ For how long?

_Adama:_ A few hours. I think.

_Lyceus:_ You have no idea exactly how long?

_Adama:_ No. It was getting dark by the time she -- came back.

_Lyceus:_ Was she alone?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ What was her condition?

_Adama:_ You've seen her medical records here?

_Lyceus:_ Uh...

_Adama:_ You have spoken with her surgeon?

_Lyceus:_ Yes.

_Adama:_ _That_ was her condition.

_Lyceus:_ Did you see her...anyone who...?

_Adama:_ I saw no one who might have attacked her.

_Lyceus:_ Was she conscious when she came back?

_Adama:_ Just long enough to stumble through the door, then collapse.

_Lyceus:_ Then?

_Adama:_ I called the emergency services.

_Lyceus:_ You identified her in that call?

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ Did you identify yourself?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ You stayed with her the entire time you were waiting for emergency services?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ Did you leave her side at any time?

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ Even for a minute?

_Adama:_ Not even for a second.

_Lyceus:_ And when you arrived at the hospital?

_Adama:_ I followed them into the emergency bay.

_Lyceus:_ Who did you speak to?

_Adama:_ The attending physician and a couple of nurses.

_Lyceus:_ Did you get names?

_Adama:_ Uh, I...no.

_Lyceus:_ Do you feel you could identify them by face?

_Adama:_ I...yes.

_Lyceus:_ Do...

_Adama:_ Will that be necessary?

_Lyceus:_ Identifying the people you spoke with? Perhaps.

_Adama:_ Is Kara...is she in...?

_Lyceus:_ She is a Person of Interest, Lieutenant. That is all you need to know right now.

_Adama:_ I...very well.

_Lyceus:_ Do you want to continue?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ Okay. What did you say to them?

_Adama:_ Her basic information. Benefits number, where I found her, that stuff.

_Lyceus:_ Her name?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ What name did you use exactly?

_Adama:_ Karissa Antigone Thrace.

_Lyceus:_ Okay, that might work...

_Adama:_ Excuse me?

_Lyceus:_ Nothing, nothing. Besides the attending doctor and nurses, did you speak with anyone else?

_Adama:_ Uh...

_Lyceus:_ Outside the hospital, that is.

_Adama:_ Not until after I spoke with the surgeon who worked on Kara.

_Lyceus:_ She was admitted to surgery?

_Adama:_ Almost immediately.

_Lyceus:_ The surgeon's name?

_Adama:_ Doctor Solon.

_Lyceus:_ Did you speak with any other personnel here during that time?

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ And after you spoke with Doctor Solon?

_Adama:_ I called the _Atlantia_ and requested an extension on my pass.

_Lyceus:_ Was this granted?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ By?

_Adama:_The Officer of the Watch, a Lieutenant Gaeta.

_Lyceus:_ After that?

_Adama:_ I called my mother and asked she come here.

_Lyceus:_ Did you name Lieutenant Thrace in that call?

_Adama:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ Approximately what time was that?

_Adama:_Uh, oh-three hundred on the, um, twelfth.

_Lyceus:_ You had been waiting here for forty-eight hours?

_Adama:_ About that, I guess.

_Lyceus:_ You weren't watching the time?

_Adama:_ No. My focus was on Kara.

_Lyceus:_ Did Doctor Solon go into detail about Lieutenant Thrace's injuries?

_Adama:_ He stated she had -- complications during surgery.

_Lyceus:_ What did he tell you?

_Adama:_ That she suffered cardiac arrest during surgery and that she had a lot of internal bleeding.

_Lyceus:_ Caused by?

_Adama:_ Um...

_Lyceus:_ Sorry. Wrong question. Is there anything else you can remember? Any details that stuck out for you?

_Adama:_ She has an old knee injury from Pyramid that's become inflamed again.

_Lyceus:_ Something else?

_Adama:_ Nothing I am prepared to speak of at this time.

_Lyceus:_ Okay.

_Adama:_ Sir, if I may?

_Lyceus:_ I can't promise I'll answer anything, Lieutenant.

_Adama:_ Understood. Precisely why is Kara a Person of Interest?

_Lyceus:_ Are you familiar with the Favors Trading Scandal, Lieutenant?

_Adama:_ Only vaguely, Sir.

_Lyceus:_ You're serious?

_Adama:_ Sir?

_Lyceus:_ You really aren't -- you haven't been following it?

_Adama:_ Sorry, what?

_Lyceus:_ Where is Hades have you been the last four years?

_Adama:_ War College, then my assignment to the _Atlantia_. Does this have anything to do with the reservist academy being closed?

_Lyceus:_ Lieutenant Adama, exactly how much do you know about it?

_Adama: _The closing of the Marshfields facility? Well, just that it was shut down about two years ago due to some issue with its Commandant. I honestly haven't been paying attention.

_Lyceus:_ And the Favors Trading?

_Adama:_ Something to do with unlicensed stock trading?

_Lyceus: _No, Lieutenant. At least not the sort of _stock_ you are likely thinking of.

_Adama:_ Then what...?

_Lyceus: _Well, I since most of it is public domain, there's no harm here.

_Adama:_ No harm?

_Lyceus: _Lieutenant Adama, Kara Thrace prompted an investigation that has led, thus far, to the criminal prosecution of two flag officers, nine members of their immediate staff, ten other active-duty Fleet officers, six non-active officers, and six permanent assistants to members of the Quorum. Presently under investigation are an additional fourteen Fleet officers and civilian staffers, as well as an equal number of individuals in the Colonial Federal government.

_Adama: _How did Kara cause that? And what does that have to do with the Marshfields being closing up?

_Lyceus: _The Marshfields facility was being used by...certain elements within the Fleet and federal hierarchy as a --procurement ground.

_Adama:_ For what?

_Lyceus: _For vulnerable individuals they could use.

_Adama:_ As...?

_Lyceus: _C'mon, Lieutenant.

_Adama:_ Stock -- you referred to -- stock.

_Lyceus: _You want me to spell it out?

_Adama:_ I...

_Lyceus: _The short version: a network of individuals were in play within both the officer corps and civilian sector who had developed a system whereby they could identify and recruit individuals they could -- use.

_Adama:_ For what?

_Lyceus: _For, well, pretty much anything.

_Adama:_ Anything -- like...

_Lyceus: Any_thing, Lieutenant.

_Adama:_ Bastard tried to -- prostitute her...

_Lyceus:_ What was that, Lieutenant?

_Adama: _Something my mother said. Sweet mother of Artemis. How -- how did this start? How long...?

_Lyceus: _We are still working out exactly how and when this network formed. As for how long, well, it looks like the whole system of reservists and retention was created expressly for this ugly business.

_Adama:_ Again, how does Kara figure into this?

_Lyceus: _The individuals normally caught up in it were effectively blackmailed into going along with it. Either their wings were contingent on their silence, or some other leverage was used. Or in some cases, invented.

_Adama: _And it worked?

_Lyceus: _Maybe not perfectly. We did notice in retrospect how there was an above-average rate of suicide - what looked like suicides - among long-serving reservists.

_Adama:_ Kara -- she -- she was slated for the Fleet Academy. I saw a copy of her acceptance letter.

_Lyceus: _Lieutenant Thrace declined to attend the regular Academy, her refusal being transmitted via hardcopy transmittal on the seventh of Hallas, 2997. In that same request, she inquired about entering as a reservist.

_Adama:_ And she was accepted, right?

_Lyceus: _Immediately upon receipt of her request.

_Adama:_ So what happened then?

_Lyceus: _She set a bunch of records within six months.

_Adama:_Yeah, she really tore up the sims.

_Lyceus: _She also apparently attracted the attention of one of the, uh, 'recruiters' for this network.

_Adama:_ How?

_Lyceus: _That is unclear at this time. What we do know is he either botched his approach or simply came on too strong to her.

_Adama:_ You know this how?

_Lyceus: _Because Lieutenant Thrace filed a formal harassment complaint against him on the twenty-third of Pallasaid, 2298. What was odd was how she sent it directly to the JAD

_Adama:_ Yeah, that sounds like Kara.

_Lyceus: _Unfortunately, it lingered in the queue for another two monens before anyone addressed it. By that time, Lieutenant Thrace was removed from the Marshfields.

_Adama:_ 'Removed' being a euphamism for what?

_Lyceus: _She had been summarily court-martialed and dismissed, her rank lost and record put under seal.

_Adama:_If that was the case, how did the JAD get anywhere?

_Lyceus: _Unlike the officer who approached Lieutenant Thrace, our investigator wasn't nearly so heavy handed. He cracked the man the complaint was lodged against quickly and got several other names out of him.

_Adama:_ Okay, I see where you're going with this. Kara's original complaint led to this one officer, who in turn spilled his guts...

_Lyceus: _We're entering areas that lie outside the public record, Lieutenant. Suffice it to say the officer in question gave the investigation direction and material enough to continue to larger fish. A number of the people who were being blackmailed and used have likewise stepped forward and provided ample evidence.

_Adama:_ But until now, you haven't interviewed Kara?

_Lyceus: _To be blunt, we didn't know where Lieutenant Thrace was. The investigation has been consuming considerable resources as it is. Trying to find someone who had been determined to be neither a material witness nor a participant at any level was not judged a priority.

_Adama: _And yet here you are, Major.

_Lyceus: _Yeah. Here I am.

_Adama: _Why do you keep calling Kara by her rank? I mean, if she was court-martialed and thrown out?

_Lyceus: _Lieutenant Thrace's court-martial was reversed _absentus _on the first of Etharia, 3000. She has been restored to her original rank but listed as inactive since then. We expect there will be additional details to be worked out in the interim.

_Adama:_ Fine. If she isn't under arrest, why is there a Marine guard stationed outside her door.

_Lyceus: _What I am about to relate is considered Confidential, Lieutenant. Understood?

_Adama: _Yes, Sir.

_Lyceus: _There are standing orders to place any Person or Persons of Interest in this matter under protective custody. There were a few deaths early on that naturally looked suspicious, and neither the JAD nor the Fleet senior boards want any further complications to arise. I am telling you this because I believe you'll assist us here knowing this.

_Adama:_ Is Kara really in danger?

_Lyceus: _I honestly don't know, Lieutenant.

_Adama:_ I can tell you from experience, Major, that Kara doesn't much care for being coddled or put under glass. She will not take well to any of this.

_Lyceus: _Being under guard.

_Adama:_ Feeling vulnerable.

_Lyceus: _Well, I can't help her there, Lieutenant. Can you?

_Adama:_ Maybe.

_Lyceus: _When does your current pass expire?

_Adama:_ About an hour.

_Lyceus: _And I presume you'd rather stay here on planet.

_Adama:_ I'll hand in my wings if that's what it takes.

_Lyceus: _Herm. Who is your CO?

_Adama: _Major Ura Corel is my CAG. Commander Avryl Thornton is the CO of the _Atlantia._

_Lyceus: _How much Leave time do you have presently?

_Adama:_ A lot. A few months worth, at least. I don't know exactly how...

_Lyceus: _All right. I'll direct a few calls there and have you temporarily seconded to our investigation here. I expect you to make yourself available for future interviews.

_Adama:_ I retain the right to having counsel present.

_Lyceus: _That is a given, Lieutenant Adama.

_Adama:_ Then I have no objection.

_Lyceus: _I would also appreciate you use whatever influence you have on Lieutenant Thrace and ensure she assists us.

_Adama:_ So long as I feel it's in her best interests to do so.

_Lyceus: _Hers?

_Adama:_ Yes.

_Lyceus: _Well I can't really argue with that, can I?

_Adama:_ I wouldn't advise it, Sir.

_Lyceus: _Wouldn't you? No. No, you wouldn't either. Gods help us all.

_Adama:_I get the feeling that the gods want nothing to do with any of this, Sir.

_Lyceus: _Maybe not. However, it looks like someone has been watching after Lieutenant Thrace, doesn't it?

_Adama: _If that were true, Sir, why is she presently two floor above us and beaten half to death?

_Lyceus: _I'd like to think that if someone wasn't watching after her, she have been dead when you found her, Lieutenant.

_Adama: _Heh. So say we all.

_Lyceus: _So say we all.

**Transcript Ends.**

_TBC..._

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Figured I'd give y'all a two-fer. Mayhap there'll even be another update before week's end. Maybe._

_For those wondering, "monen" is the Colonial equivalent of lunar month. Actually its the Caprican equivalent, but as its the seat of the federal government it tends to dictate what's how the calendar is organized. _Antioch, Hallas, Pallasaid, _and_Etharia _are individual monens out of the year, named for historical communities or individuals. _

_Bear with me here. I'm building a world from the ground up._


	10. Silence is not an Option

_(We're heading into some emotionally painful territory here; consider yourself warned. A 'cleaner' version may also be in the offing.)_

* * *

_Part Ten: Silence is not an Option._

Kara had decided, however unconsciously, to test Caroline's commitment to staying there with that ages-old method children have employed, the silent treatment. This proved spectacularly ineffective as Caroline simply filled the air with her careful reading _Kobol, _Volume One.

"The founding of the city of Aurorus is a convenient marking point for the start of the second major phase in Koboli development: the Era of Expansion." Caroline paused just long enough to glance up and ensure she had an attentive audience.

The much-celebrated historian Auric Thal then went on to detail how the Aurorans proceeded to sail hither and yon, founding other cities and villages along the Great Coast, and map their world. Kara had always found that piece of history uplifting somehow. It wasn't something she had dwelled on or examined too closely, mainly for fear it would wither away with any conscious attention.

Caroline reached the point where the fifth city, Saleek, was founded when she unexpectedly stopped. "We know about the baby, Kara," she stated smoothly.

"Huh?"

But Caroline simply took up reading again, telling how the sixth and seven cities were founded upon the Quell Peninsula, and soon after were wiped out by an earthquake that sank the peninsula itself. Caroline's steady voice and the familiar details of their ancestor's many rises and falls kept Kara from jumping out of the bed in another blind panic. By rights, she shouldn't have been able lay there and listen, but she did. Perhaps not serenely, but any urge to flee had itself long since fled.

Kara used the time, turning Caroline's words over and over in her head. She thought back over their smooth, casual delivery. She considered and analyzed the nuances and hitches in Caroline's voice, or imagined she did given the words themselves rather drowned out everything else. Besides, she didn't really have the training or experience to distinguish between stuff like that; her own mother had only one tone and her decibel level was permanently on 'high'.

The fact Caroline wasn't yelling, cursing or otherwise hammering on her was, in light of her words, infinitely more terrifying. At least it should have been. Her few monens at the Marshfields had instilled in her a mild anxiety over people getting an _odd_ sort of quiet.

Right then Kara didn't feel any threat or anger directed her way. Caroline Adama's sole focus, it seemed, was reading fromthe volume in her hands and sneak a quick glance her way every ten or twenty pages. Despite herself, Kara actually felt herself start to relax a bit, timing her own glances towards her temporary roommate according to the rustle of the pages as they were turned.

If it was Caroline's intention to lull her into lowering her guard, it worked brilliantly. Kara was aware of this only in hindsight, once Caroline's next non-text statement registered. "We aren't angry at you about it, Kara."

It was three pages before it sunk in. Shock immobilized her completely once it did, leaving her helpless against the next such statement when it came half an hour later.

Caroline told her "We know about the baby, Kara. We aren't angry at you about it. And we're going to take you home." Once again, it was said so smoothly and casually it didn't register until long after the fact. This time Kara snapped her head around eyes wide, staring at Caroline directly, with both lungs and heart pounding hard against her chest.

It was the last bit that really broke her mental paralysis. "Whu...?" was all she could manage.

Caroline looked up, stopping mid-sentence as she read of the First Communal Council and its intrigues. "Hmm? What's that?"

"Whu...?"

"Kara," Caroline frowned. "Is something wrong with your medication?"

"I -- whu...?" What the frak had happened to her voice? To her head? What the frak was she trying to say? Or rather _not _say? Or -- what the frak?

"What the frak d'you mean?" Kara managed to ground out, wincing from the pain in her throat.

"Language, Kara." If anything, Caroline's completely calm and gentle manner only set Kara even further on edge.

"Answer me, godsdammit!"

"I mean exactly what I said." She put the volume aside and reached around, digging into the pocket of her jacket from where it hung over her chair. She pulled out a small photostat that Kara immediately identified as her single most prized possession, and the clearest evidence of her eternal damnation once Hades or the Furies got their metaphysical hands on her.

"We know about the baby," Caroline said in that same maddeningly calm and reasonable voice. "But we aren't angry about it."

"Who the frak is 'we'?" Kara suspected she already knew the answer, but was enough of an emotional masochist to ask anyway.

"Lee and myself."

"Frak."

"And that's more than enough of that language, Kara. Not that I don't understand, mind you."

"You don't know frak!" Kara spat this, completely with spittle flying across her covers.

"I know one thing, Kara," Caroline informed her in surprisingly flat voice. "I know that Zak is my third child."

Again, it took Kara several beats to register the words. It took longer still for her to even begin making a connection between that statement and all previous ones; she kept coming up short, which seemed to be the story of her life. Ultimately, curiosity overrode self-preservation and she dared a look directly to her left. "What?"

"Lee and Zak have -- _had_ -- a sister between them." Now it was Caroline who looked down and away.

"Whu -- when?"

"A year after Lee was born. I was pregnant for two monens." Still the same flat tone, which Kara was rapidly finding frightening to hear.

"What -- what happened?" Kara winced at both the question and her own tone. _Wasn't it obvious what happened, frakhead? Why else would she be telling you this if…_

"I lost her, on the tenth of Pallasaid. A natural miscarriage." Caroline raised her eyes then and locked her gaze on Kara. "It was the god's mercy on us both." Kara sputtered in shock at this, only to go still at the next words she heard. "I was drinking at the time, Kara." She sighed. "I didn't even know I was pregnant until I was in the hospital."

"I -- gods..."

"Like I said, it was the god's mercy on us both." Another sigh. "Lee doesn't know. Zak doesn't know. Neither does Bill." A gentle hand was laid on her arm, an equally gentle squeeze following. "So, yes, Kara. I know what the frak I'm talking about."

There was nothing, literally nothing, Kara could even conceive of saying after all that. She felt what little confidence her anger had provided drain away, leaving her feeling not a little weak and ashamed for it.

Kara could only lay there, eyes staring at nothing, unwilling to allow herself the tears that prickled her eyes. Caroline's hand remained where it laid, her grip never slacking.

In time, Kara heard her voice as it worked independently of her will. "It was a truck," she murmured.

"A truck -- hit you?" Caroline question was barely above a whisper.

"Yeah. Right after -- right after I said good-bye to Momma."

"You went to see her alone?"

"Yeah. After I saw Doc Greystone." Now it was Kara's turn to sigh. "I -- I told Momma about Lee -- an' -- an' about the baby -- an' how Lee and I were getting married..."

Had she not only a hair less lost to the memories, Kara would have easily caught the tremors Caroline fought to quiet in her shoulders and voice and gaze. "Did she -- what did she say, Kara?"

"She said 'trash can't raise babies' and 'trash can't marry good men'."

"What did you say to that?"

"I said, 'gods rest your soul, Momma'. An' then I left her there." Kara closed her eyes, the tears starting to leak from between her lashes.

"And then?" Caroline prompted, gentle as a summer's breeze.

"Then I was crossing the street outside -- even waited for the signal to turn. An' then a truck hit me -- an' it killed -- it killed me..."

She didn't -- _couldn't -- _say anymore after that. And Caroline didn't press or resume reading _Kobol._.

Enough had been said.

Kara took the silence that resulted as Caroline's unspoken command she ponder, deeply, just how thoroughly she'd swallowed both feet. She calculated she'd made it up to her knees when Caroline dropped her little bombshell.

She couldn't immediately think what possessed Caroline to drop it on her in the first place. Oh, it was clearer in retrospect, but lying there like a log, apparently had a negative impact on her higher functions. As a defense mechanism, she re-tuned her mental dial to contemplate more sundry and familiar concerns, Lee's presence in the general area being foremost on that list.

To say she had been shocked to see him was a major understatement and it gave her the distraction she so desperately needed. Hades, just trying to imagine what his reaction to the pictures had been would keep her occupied straight up to when the suns went nova and their worlds ended in fire. It actually fortified her emotional walls: imagining the worst case, then conceiving something even worse, was reassuring that everything her mother had said was true. That kind of certainty gave her something to brace against when Caroline Adama decided to call her on her bullshit.

Maybe Lee had put her here in the hospital? Gods knew she had given him all the reason in all the worlds to beat the holy living shit out of her. She couldn't necessarily see him actually doing it, but who knew how much he'd changed after five years?

That thought left her so cold she couldn't move. Certainty of her worthlessness was one thing, but the possibility she had destroyed another's soul as completely as she'd murdered her own baby?

At some point, she couldn't tell when exactly, Kara gave up on the whole "living with it" thing and started thinking of ways onto the opposite track. She would have to be clever about it, of course. Maybe wait until after dark. She'd have to get a sense of the night staff and how their schedules worked…

She was completely unaware of how clearly these thoughts showed on her face. Caroline, in contrast, was anything but unaware, and enunciated her response in the clearest fashion humanly possible.

"Frak you."

This had the desired effect of getting Kara's attention, even if it took several seconds to register. "What?"

"I said 'frak you', Karissa Antigone Thrace." It was clear from her tone that Caroline wasn't actively pronouncing judgment upon her. There was something indefinable to the words however, and that something was enough to chill Kara to the bone.

"Um…"

"That's what suicide is, Kara," Caroline pressed on in the same tone, which hardened and sharpened with each word. "It's the ultimate '_frak you_'. It you telling your family and everyone you love '_frak you_, you aren't worth sticking around for'."

"I don't…" However, Caroline would brook no evasions or excuses.

"You don't what, Kara? Don't intend to kill yourself? Don't have any family? Don't have anyone you love?" The older woman leaned forward and speared her with a flint-hard gaze. "As Bill would say, I'm calling bullshit. And do not even try to deny what I _know_ was running through your head just now."

"Which was?" Kara challenged, trying to cover how badly she was shaking right then.

"How quickly you could kill yourself. I'll even wager you'd come up with a couple really messy ways to accomplish that as well."

"What do…"

"What do I know?" A half-smile, utterly devoid of humor, was the first half of Caroline's answer. It was merely to ensure she had Kara's full attention. The second half was the bit that mattered more.

"I know because, for over a month after I lost little Athena, I would see the exact same look every godsbedamned time _I would look in a frakking mirror!" _Her nostrils flared hard and lips trembled. "_That's _how I know what going on in that beautiful, thick head of yours, girl. I was ready to _slice my own wrists open_ every time I saw that look _in my own eyes_."

Kara literally had to gulp the air to gasp, "Stop. Please, just -- stop."

"Is that what you're going to do, Kara?" Caroline's voice dipped slightly, sounding almost taunting. "Are you going to say 'frak you' to Lee like that? Why'd you keep those photos and his ring if that's all you had in mind? Hmm?" She leaned closer still, almost breathing into her ear. "Did you ever mean it when you said you loved my son, who you wanted to spend your life with him?"

"Ah -- I..." Her tears flowed freely now, her hands bunching the bed sheet in a white-knuckle grip. Caroline leaned in closer, the words she spoke now a hurricane in her ears.

"I _know _you did, so don't you _dare _wreck our lives like that, Kara. We've been damaged enough. Lee won't survive it. I won't survive it. Don't you dare make me live out my days with the echo of a gunshot in my ears, or make me scared to see the color red. Don't make me think my daughter was a coward."

The word worked its usual magic, clearing Kara's mind and giving her a flare of anger that had her snarling "I -- I'm not..."

"Where's that fierce spirit I know and love?"

"I -- I..." Kara could only sigh as her eyes fell downwards once more. "I don't know," she whispered, something terrible unwinding in her chest. It was terrible because it had something to do with being vulnerable, as if she wasn't enough of _that_ already...

"You didn't kill your baby, Kara. _You_ didn't do that."

Every thing in creation, from philosophical conceit to the densest metal, has its breaking point. The hard shell of self-loathing and despair Kara Thrace had hidden in for five years was no different. Those ten words, delivered so gently they were barely above a whisper, were sufficient to crack it like an egg. With it went all conscious thought and impulse, and so she offered no resistance against Caroline's pulling her into a tight embrace.

She didn't scream or wail, but her tears became a flood and shoulders shook with such force it took all of Caroline's strength to hold onto her. How had this woman so easily demolished all her walls and shatter all the nice little lies she'd depended on for so long? What gave Caroline Adama the right to do that to her?

Kara wanted to curse her for it. She might as well have called Zeus down from his throne on high while she was at it, her tongue too heavy to move and her voice long gone. The most she could do was mutter "Oh gods oh gods oh gods..." over and over again.

It hurt to breathe, hurt to feel, hurt to live. _Fear gets you killed; anger keeps you alive_; that was the mantra pounded into her at Marshfields. But she was too tired to be angry anymore and too weak to be afraid of how _good_ it felt to have Caroline hold her like this. So_ did this mean she didn't want to be alive anymore__? __W__as she just too tired to care about how she really deserved all of Momma's anger__?__S__he didn't even believe that anymore because Caroline was there and Lee was there and Lee had found her and stayed with her and hadn't left her side and__… __oh gods__!__ Oh gods__!__ Oh gods__! S__he remembered now how he told her__…__ oh gods__…__ he still loved her and he wouldn't leave __her. B__ut he wasn't there anymore__. __Caroline wouldn't let her go again__. __A__nd why did baby have to die__? __S__he hates the gods now because they took baby away from her and it wasn't her fault__. __S__he hates them hates them hates them all__. __P__lease don't leave me__,__ mom__. P__lease don't leave me__,__ Lee__,__ please don't leave__,__ please don't leave__,__ please don't leave__.__ I'll be better__,__ I swear__,__ I swear__,__ I swear__,__ I swear__. __B__ecause I don't want you to leave me alone__.__ I can't be alone because I'll die and have to face Hades, and I don't want to face him because I know I'm damned except when I'm with you__.__ I'm better __with you.__ I'll be better__! __O__h gods__,__ please let me go__! __D__on't let me go__! __L__et me go and be with baby even though I didn't kill baby__.__ I killed baby__.__ I didn't kill baby__.__ I didn't kill baby__. __I__t wasn't fair, wasn't fair, wasn't fair, we were happy, so happy, so happy__!__ I can't live like this anymore, don't want to live like this anymore, don't want to live but I want to live and be with Lee and have a bright and shiny future because I want a bright and shiny future__.__ Momma said I was trash and tried to throw me out with the trash; she beat and hurt me__.__ Lee never hurt me__;__ I hurt Lee. __A__ll I do is __H__urt__! __Hurt__! __H__urt__! __S__top__! S__top__! S__top__!__ STOP!_

Something sharp poked her arm. Something that spread warmth through her arm and into the rest of her. Something that stopped all her racing thoughts and curses, but didn't stop her tears as they pooled when she felt herself lay back once more.

"Sleep now, Kara," someone said. It might have been Caroline, or Nurse Gorgo. It might have been Artemis herself.

Kara saw no reason to disobey the directive, and so let herself drift away. If this were a dream, well, perhaps she just wouldn't wake up from it. The thought wasn't all that displeasing, given circumstances.

_TBC..._

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_I really have nothing to say right now; just trying to up the word count a bit. Please hit the review button so I know I'm keeping y'all interested._


	11. Finding Bedrock

_Part Eleven: Hitting bedrock._

Lee Adama didn't scare**,** not easily at any rate. His willingness to follow Doctor Solon's orders and keep distance between himself and Kara**,** despite every nerve ending and neuron in him urging the opposite**,**was purely out of strategic and practical considerations. Given what Major Lyceus had told him downstairs (and Lee had no doubt everything he'd learned had been carefully scripted for his benefit beforehand), he was now more conscious than ever that he needed to proceed cautiously here and keep as many allies as possible if he was going to maintain position on her six. If he were judged in any way detrimental to Kara's recovery -- no, he didn't dare risk that.

At least that would have been the reason he'd give for turning tail when he approached her room again. No, Lee Adama didn't scare...except when it came to Kara Thrace, who could undo him with a glance.

Truth be told, it was the moaning that scared Lee off this time. Kara's moans, just loud enough to be heard in the doorway and as primal as any scream human lungs might manage, had Lee instinctively backing away from the room. The fact his mother was in there with her only added to his reluctance; the way she'd all but chased him out grated on his nerves more than all the revelations he'd been exposed to in the last few hours.

His stomach turned, and then turned again, just trying to conceive of the depraved indignities that might have been waiting Kara. But for the graces of gods he had never believed in, she had nearly fallen into a virtual slavery ring run by the upper echelons of the Fleet itself**.**Okay that might have been overstating it a little. It did have him wondering now about letting Zak anywhere near the Academy. Despite being circumspect on details, Major Lyceus had left the strong impression it was not _just_ female pilots who had been targeted.

Thank the gods again for simple human stupidity. What would have happened, he wondered, if the officer she'd reported on hadn't made such a muck of his original approach, or if he'd kept his head when the JAD started investigating?

Lee shook off such thoughts. It wasn't productive to second-guess past events at this point. Better to focus on their immediate circumstances. Among them was making sure he was staying on-planet as Major Lyceus had promised. Using a public phone in the reception area, he contacted the _Atlantia _via Skydock Central Operations. To his surprise, the connection took barely a minute before he was speaking directly with Commander Thornton.

"_Apollo? That you?"_

"Yes, Sir."

"_You're still on Caprica?"_

"Yes, Sir. I'm calling from there now."

"_Okay, I've gotten an odd request from the Judge Advocate's lead office in Sparta."_

"I expected you might, Sir."

"_Does this have anything with how you've been off-ship for nearly a week?"_

"Yes, Sir."

Lee said nothing further, prompting Thornton to ask, _"Is this anything you can discuss, Lieutenant?"_

"I shouldn't, Commander. It concerns, um, the Marshfields."

"_Ah. Well, I'll leave it then."_ Thornton paused, then quickly added, _"Look, Lee. If there's some trouble or something..."_

"It's not that, Sir. I -- it's a bit complicated."

"_Favors Trading?" _Thornton asked, trying to sound casual about it.

"Um, only indirectly."

"_The North Wing's request for you mentioned it, Lieutenant. Are you sure there's nothing you can tell me?"_

"Nothing at this time, Commander. I give you my word I'll keep you in the loop as I'm able..."

"_Please do so. I will have it noted in the logs you've been seconded upon request of the JAD. And, Lee?"_

"Sir?"

"_Don't worry; your rack will be waiting for you. Thornton clear."_

The dial tone that followed was not nearly as irritating as it might have been. Lee let loose a slow breath he had unconsciously held and pondered his next move. He was sorely tempted to march back upstairs and find out what had Kara sounding like she was among the damned in Tartarus. Just a flash of memory of her moaning was enough to keep him where he was, some deep instinct telling him that this was a matter better left to his mother.

Lee leaned against the nearest available wall and rubbed his temples, replaying his exchange with his CO. He knew Commander Thornton well enough to know he was not the sort to speak casually about anything**,** quite the opposite in fact. One could measure how seriously the commander took an issue with how breezily he addressed it. So for him to even mention Favors Trading, the connotations of which grew and twisted in his mind like a pit of snakes, as he had meant he was likely well aware of it shape and reach.

Lee felt a hundred more times the fool for having missed it so completely. He was supposed to be a rising star in the Fleet, the eldest son of the legendary 'Husker' Adama and the equal to his father in the latter's prime. It shamed him to realize just how self-involved an ass he had been for the last five years, letting his wounded ego dictate his moves; or in Kara's case, the lack of any movement, period.

That was another thing that gave him chills: the realization he simply did not know what had happened to her over the last five years. Where she had lived, what she had been involved in, how she'd lived; he knew _nothing_. How in Hades was he supposed to operate in such a vacuum?

A few deep breaths later and he had calmed sufficiently so he could think beyond recriminations and borderline panic. What to do, however, given he didn't dare show his face around Kara's room for the next two days?

"Frak," Lee muttered aloud. He needed perspective that being in the middle of this mess denied him. But who to get it from? Commander Thornton? Major Corel? No chance there, not without risking having Major Lyceus and the JAD freeze him out. So who did that leave?

"Oh, brother," he groaned quietly, meaning every syllable. He picked up the telephone receiver again and dialed another number, this one prefixed to the Fleet's orientation camp outside Corsia on Picon.

* * *

"_Camp Rampell, main exchange. Please hold."_

Lee gritted his teeth as he stood there, feeling a fool once more as the automated message. He was starting to rethink this course of action when a semi-polite and decidedly human voice replaced the otherwise unpleasant noise. _"Camp Rampell, main exchange. Please state your business."_

"This is...this is Lieutenant Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet ID 923753."

"_Good afternoon, Lieutenant," _the voice on the other end stated with a tone of forced pleasantness.

"Good afternoon," Lee said in reply. "I need to speak with Cadet Trainee Zak Adama."

"_Reason, Lieutenant?"_

"A, uh, a family matter."

"_Is it an emergency?"_

"It's -- it's urgent, but not an emergency."

"_Please hold." _Lee swallowed a groan he got another earful of bad Musak. Thankfully, the wait was far shorter this time. _"Cadet Trainee Adama is on maneuvers presently, Lieutenant."_

"I see." And he did, remembering his own exhausting monen running up to his formal admission to the main Academy. "Please have him contact me at the following digit-code when he returns." Lee read off the phone's code; his pocket wireless had only local range, and so wouldn't serve here. "Estimated time to completion of maneuvers?"

"_Sixteen Hundred local time, Lieutenant."_

This put the earliest time Zak might call just two and a half hours out. Great. "Understood. Please inform him it's a matter of -- of some urgency but is not an emergency."

"_Yes, Sir. General exchange, clear." _Lee didn't feel any offense at the brusque tone; if this scandal was as serious as Major Lyceus had hinted at; civilian employees for the Fleet were doubtless feeling a bit pinched and punchy.

He knew exactly how they felt.

The next hours dragged for Lee. Despite his growing fatigue and general sense of boredom, some inner caution wouldn't let him leave his place near the phones for longer than it took to relieve himself or grab another cup of bitter coffee, each of which he drank standing up. The hospital staff gave him an odd look or two at his apparent loitering, but apparently, enough of the staff knew or had heard about his and Kara's arrival, that no one made a direct issue of it. His being in uniform with sidearm didn't hurt either.

The only trouble with waiting like this was he had ample time to _think_, and his thoughts didn't stray far from Kara for any length of time. In fact, they practically circled around her and everything he did and did not know about her. It was enough to literally make a man dizzy; so much so Lee found himself pondering over small details he had seen but that hadn't registered at the time, just so his world would make some small measure of sense.

Her tattoos for example. The three-level block-pyramid on the back of her left shoulder was familiar enough; he had been present for the inking of each level, one for every seasonal Pyramid match she had played in the Amateurs. And there was the ages-old sigil she'd had put on the back of her neck. It hardly looked like more than a few squiggly lines, so Lee was hard pressed to see how it could be interpreted as "Warrior".

But the one on the inside of her right forearm? That one was new. He had seen it only in passing, both when she had collapsed before him and a couple of times when he'd been reading to her. It wasn't Caprican, at least not the modern dialect. Thinking on it, it looked more Northern Tauronese. As a child, Lee had studied the basics of the lyrical if increasingly obscure language, but did so primarily to deliver an oral report on his family's heritage (his grandfather in particular) in First Form.

However, why Kara felt the need to have "Public Property" inked into her skin -- well, it wasn't something he really wanted to dwell too much on.

If he did, he would too tempted to groan again and just _forget_ about Solon's edict about _not_approaching Kara. If that happened, he would just take over her room and barricade them both inside until she was discharged. She was no one's "property", and he'd be damned before he let the public have a piece of her.

This of course was decidedly _not_ a good idea. Kara herself would delight in killing him (slowly) were he attempt to shelter her, regardless of how "honorable" his intentions were or how clearly geared he was toward keeping her safe and secure. It might actually encourage Kara to get really, really _creative_ as she dispatched him. Then it would be his mother's turn. Ugh, another something that didn't bear thinking about.

Lee turned his focus to what little he knew about this bizarre scandal Kara, and now he, was caught up in. Lee didn't fancy himself so naïve to think sexual favors weren't traded among the ranks. He had developed a bit of a reputation of being a 'cold fish' and so had not been approached for such, nor been receptive to overtures. A blessing in retrospect.

But high-ranking officers using the reservists' academy as a brothel? It boggled the mind to contemplate something like that. But how far did it stretch out? And were the measures Lyceus had taken enough to protect Kara?

This prompted Lee to take another look around him, noting how crowded the reception area was getting. It was hard not to view everyone and anyone as a potential assassin. He was nearly taking a step directly to the elevators when the phone he'd been watching rang. Lee picked it up immediately.

"_Lee? You, uh, there?"_

It was Zak. Thank the Lords. It was just Zak.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." The relief was nearly enough to have him in tears.

"_What's up, bro? The exchange said it was urgent."_

"It's -- I'm in Sparta."

"_On Caprica?"_

"Yeah."

"_What happened? You get re-assigned or what?"_

"Um, sort of." Lee took a quick breath and ordered his thoughts. "Zak, you know about the Marshfields academy closing down?"

"_Heard about it, yeah. What's that got to do with anything?"_

"Has anyone talked to you or approached you about that? Or -- um..."

"_Lee, what the frak are you on about? No, no one's asked me anything."_

"Okay, good." Another breath. "Zak, I -- um..."

"_Lee, you're starting to worry me here. What's wrong?"_

"I can't go into details over the phone. Just that -- I -- I found -- her."

"_Her? Who 'her'?" _It took Zak an extra beat to grasp Lee's meaning. _"Wait. You found Kara?"_

"Yeah. She's, um, in pretty bad shape here."

"_She's on Caprica with you?"_

"I found her here, yes. Look..."

"_Hey, that's great isn't it?"_

"Zak, I'm calling from a hospital."

"_What? You okay?"_

Lee gritted his teeth to keep from snarling at his brother's momentary confusion. "I'm okay. Kara isn't."

"_Whu? Lee, you didn't..."_

"Of course not!" A nurse looked over at his outburst, but didn't approach him. Lee flashed her what he hoped was a reassuring grin and refocused on the receiver.

"_Okay, okay. Sorry. It's just -- well, you were a mess for awhile when she vanished."_

"I know, I know. Mom's already told me." He shook his head. This conversation was going in the entirely the wrong direction and he needed to get it back on track. "No, I didn't have -- I did _not_ hurt her."

"_So, what happened?"_

"Short version: I found her by chance; right after someone beat the shit out of her."

"_Who?"_

"I have no idea. I didn't even know she was here in Sparta."

"_But she's okay, right?"_

"She needed a lot of surgery, but yeah. Yeah, she's physically okay." Thankfully, Zak didn't seem to notice this proviso, saving Lee from giving voice to any doubts about her mental state. That was one conversation he'd prefer delaying for as long as possible.

Zak seemed to pick up this reluctance and lightened his tone. _"So, you call mom yet?"_

"Yeah. She's sitting with Kara right now."

"_And she's okay?"_

"Yeah."

"_So how is this related to the Favor's Trading mess?" _Lee was too surprised that Zak knew about the scandal to immediately answer. _"Frak, Lee. Please don't say she was one..."_

"No. No! No, no. Nothing like that -- I think."

"_You think?!"_

"Zak, all I know is that I found her apartment and that some had beaten her badly enough so she was in surgery for over a day. Hades, I didn't even know about this 'Favors' stuff until the JAD showed up."

"_You're kidding? You really didn't know about it?"_

"Nothing. Just that the Marshfields had been closed and there was some kind of investigation about it."

"_Gods, Lee."_

"Look, Zak. I didn't call so you could beat me over the head. I called -- frak, Zak. I'm not sure why I called."

"_Tell me about it. __It's__been four monens since I got a letter or anything from you." _Lee winced at the truth of the words. _"Sorry,_" Zak quickly apologized. _"That didn't come out right."_

"How was it supposed to come out?" Lee asked tiredly. "Frak."

"_Er, yeah. I'm sure you've been busy with stuff..."_

"I'm not making excuses, Zak. Don't try making 'em for me." Lee sighed. "I didn't call you to fight about what a disconnected idiot I've been."

"_Good to hear. So why are you calling?"_

"I need -- mom's sitting with Kara right now. I don't know who else I can talk to."

"_What about?"_

"Are you kidding?"

"_No, seriously. What do you need me for?"_

"I'm -- I just don't know what to do."

"_About what?"_

"About Kara, and this whole mess we're in."

"_Well, does the Fleet know?"_

Lee snorted. "Yeah, yeah. They're here. There's even a Marine stationed outside her door."

"_So there's a guard on her. Doesn't that mean she's safe?"_

"Well..."

"_I mean, we're talking about Kara Thrace here. She's tougher than Cerberus."_

"There's that -- but..." Lee couldn't come up with anything to counter this sensible observation. "Yeah," he finally agreed. "She's tough."

"_Where's the issue?"_

"Fair point. I'm being an idiot, aren't I?"

"_Frak, no. She's been missing for years, bro. You'd be an idiot if you weren't a bit worried."_

Despite the otherwise confusing circumstances, Lee couldn't help but chuckle at Zak's ever-practical take on matters. A bit naïve maybe, but helpful in its own way.

"Thanks, Zak."

"_No problem. How is she? Really?"_

"Recovering. That's all I'm going to say."

"_You still planning to marry her?"_

"As soon as I can find a Priest who's got a few minutes."

"_Send me pictures, okay? I gotta run."_

"Right. Rememberto pace yourself."

"_Call me tomorrow."_

"I promise. Later."

"_Whenever."_

Their habitual farewells said, Lee hung up the phone. Yes, Zak could be on the naïve side when it came to life and all its complexities. But thank the gods for that touchstone Lee had found himself depending on the last few years. Without Zak, he literally had no other family to connect with.

Breathing a cleansing sigh, Lee found himself able to focus a bit better. Yes, Kara was in rough shape, and their circumstances were less than ideal right then. However, she was here and safe and under guard. Maybe he'd just let himself blow things out of proportion here.

The sight of three men and one woman in dress blues walking into reception immediately caught his attention, something in their collective manner causing him to duck to the side and out of sight. One in particular**,** a lean specimen whose spiky blond hair that and scratchy chin looking anything but military**,** put Lee's nerves on edge.

It was this one who asked the receptionist**,** "Where can we find Kara Thrace?"

Lee didn't wait to hear the answer. Instead**,** he was sprinting to the nearest stairwell, heedless of the clatter the door he pushed past and taking the stairs three at a time.

His only thought was to reach the second floor before these newcomers did, unable to shake the fear he would fail in this most desperate race.

_TBC..._

* * *

**De Author Seez: **Sorry for the cliff-hanger there. On second thought, no I'm not! Was it just me or was this whole thing turning into a soap opera? Anyways, expect some further intrigue in a few days time; maybe even a shoot-out or two. Sooner if I start hearing from y'all! Cheers.


	12. Laying Foundations

_Part Twelve: Laying Foundations_

It was a small nod to fate that the phone bank where Lee had been was virtually underneath the Recovery Wing, and that he encountered no impediments to his flight up the stairs. He doubted he would have noticed if he had ploughed through anyone or anything; his sole focus was reaching the second floor.

Bursting through the door, Lee needed precious seconds to orientate himself and theremember which room was Kara's. It should have been easy enough to spot, given there was supposed to be a Marine _and_ a uniformed policeman guarding it. So where the frak was it?

"Idiot," he cursed himself in a breathless whisper, taking several deep breaths so he could walk around the nearby corner without looking like a fool. As expected, Sergeant Garth stood there, arms clasped behind him at parade rest, while the policeman just lounged half-asleep in a chair with the _Sparta Daily _in his lap.

Sergeant Garth snapped to attention as soon as Lee rounded the corner. The policeman started at this sudden movement, but otherwise remained seated and looked utterly uninterested. Only later would it strike Lee as too affected a slouch to be real.

But at that moment, Lee had eyes only for the Marine. "Sergeant."

"Sir," the heavyset man nodded.

"Stand at ease. There's a quartet of visitors coming up in dress blues."

"Sir?"

"I'm not convinced they're for real. And I do not want them near Kara unless they have a lot of documentation with them _and _Major Lyceus agrees. Understood?" Lee was mildly surprised at the force of command in his words. Even the policeman sat up straighter as he spoke.

"Understood, Sir."

"I'm going to be in the room and out of sight. Contact Major Lyceus and make him aware of this. Do not let them in until he says so."

"Yes, Sir." Lee and the Marine shared a nod, the sort that men sharing the same duty exchange. Out of the corner of his eye, Lee noticed the cop straightening up as well, keeping hold of his paper but leaving his right hand free to rest near his own weapon. He had no time to acknowledge this as the elevator behind them pinged, causing Lee to dash into the room he'd been barred from.

* * *

Inside was his mother and the once-more slumbering Kara. The former was clearly surprised to see him, her eyes reddened and puffy and mouth open, no doubt to chide him. Lee quickly pressed a finger to his lips and pointed back to the door. Caroline frowned as she stood and approached the threshold, stopping short and staying to the side. Lee moved himself to the other side of the door, out of immediate sight but able to hear the 'discussion' happening outside.

The first voice was the same he had heard at the reception desk. "Sergeant."

"Sir?"

A completely different voice spoke, this one slightly more sonorous. "We're here to interview Kara Thrace."

"I'm sorry, Major. I'm under orders not to admit anyone to Lieutenant Thrace's room at this time."

There was a bit of a pause at Garth's polite injunction. It was the second voice the spoke up. "Is that right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"By whom?"

"My superior officer, Sir."

Lee had to give it the Marine; he was a cool one. Garth was probably facing a wall of brass insignia and not budging. Lee wouldn't have been moved himself, but then he wasn't nearly as invested in his career in uniform.

"Look, Sergeant," the first one was speaking now. "Our orders are to…"

"Orders from whom, Sir?"

"Beg your pardon?"

"Orders from whom, Sir?" Lee felt his hand go to his sidearm when there was no immediate answer to this. The silence stretched a handful of minutes, each ratcheting up the tension within him.

_Answer him _he wanted to scream.

In place of words, there was the crinkling sound of paper being unfolded and passed from hand to hand. Then several more seconds of silence. It was rapidly wearing Lee's nerves to their last frayed edge; only the steady presence of his mother kept him still.

That and the shock of watching her deliberately open the door and position herself in the threshold. "What's going on here, Sergeant?" she asked calmly.

"Several officers requesting to enter the room, ma'am."

"Uh-huh. And when did Tartarus freeze over? Because I promise you are _not _getting into this room before that happens."

Lee managed to keep from chuckling at this, mainly because he bit down on his upper lip. He clearly wasn't the only one stunned at Caroline's boldness, the first voice saying, "Ma'am, this is no concern..."

"If it touches on my daughter, then it most certainly is my concern." This was said with a tone of voice Lee had not heard in years; a sort of forced enunciation usually heard around dinner parties and formal occasions; events he had largely managed to avoid since the onset of puberty. He vaguely recalled his grandfather Michel, Caroline's father, speaking this way to his own father on the rare occasion the two were in the same room.

Now, as then, it only added to the already free-flowing tension. Either, the first speaker was too stunned, or simply not bold enough to reply. The second one was quicker off the mark, and addressed the obvious. "Your daughter?" The disbelief carried clearly.

"I'm her legal guardian, so yes, she's mine." Lee honestly admired the confidence with which she said that, to the point of nearly,_ nearly _buying it himself. He was aware however that Kara's twenty-fourth birthday was barely a week away, thereby marking an end to any claim of legal guardianship Caroline or any other might have made. He wondered for a moment just how far his mother was prepared to take this claim, never mind who might actually accept it. Did these non-officers (as he'd come to think of them) know about Kara's birthday?

His rather rash statement to Zak – was it really just minutes ago and not years - about finding a Priest and their reciting their vows suddenly took on special urgency. Gods, he hadn't felt this frantic or out of control since the day Kara had just up and vanished. He was literally shaking at the shoulders in both hands. Idiot, he cursed himself silently. _Pull it together. Kara needs you acting, not re-acting!_

Thankfully, the non-officers seemed rather flustered by Caroline's insistence. It was probably too much to hope that they would cut their losses and leave.

Sure enough, the second voice piped back up. "Ma'am, we have written authorization from..."

"Let me see that." The papers crinkled again; Caroline had evidentially snatched them from Sergeant Garth. "Which Division did you say you were with?"

"Um," the second voice prevaricated, unconvincingly at that.

A new voice, a woman's this time, responded. "We're with a multi-office task force, ma'am. Answering directly to Admiral..."

"Admiral who, exactly? I'm afraid I can't really make out the name or signature here."

"Er, yes. There was a bit of trouble with our printer..."

"I'll ask again: who is your commanding officer?"

"Admiral Corman."

"Uh-huh." Caroline clearly remained unconvinced. "I'm well acquainted with Barry Corman, young lady. Well enough that I know this is_ not _his signature."

"Admiral Corman is our most senior officer, ma'am. These orders come from Commander Hermac."

His mother snorted harshly. "Elias Hermac? Didn't he die suddenly a month or three ago?"

"No, ma'am," the woman said tightly.

"No, ma'am," Caroline mimicked. "Look, officers. I can appreciate you have your orders, even if I can't make out half the words." She passed the paper elsewhere. "The fact remains my daughter is presently under sedation and needs a considerable amount of rest before she's ready to see _anyone_, in uniform or otherwise."

"Can we at least know the...extent of her injuries?"

"You are certainly free to inquire with her chief surgeon on that score. I'm simply a concerned mother and have my attention elsewhere."

"So we see," the first speaker said, his tone suggesting he was prepared to let this one go. Even from where he was positioned, Lee could feel the tension outside slowly ebb. "We'll come back another time, then."

Lee heard his mother hiss to the Sergeant, "Keep that paper with you." Garth apparently understood as it sounded as if he pocketed the sheets.

"Ma'am…" the woman began, and was promptly steamrolled over.

"I believe you said you were leaving." Her words were a statement, not a question, and one that these people apparently took to heart. There was the sound of footsteps moving off after a few more beats. Not until he heard the elevator doors slide open, then close that Lee let out the breath he had been holding.

He was shaking. Godsdammit, he was _shaking_ like a rook pilot on his first launch. What the frak was up with that?

His mother and the Sergeant, and probably the cop as well, were exchanging a few words outside. Lee, however, couldn't concentrate enough to hear what was being said.

Kara's eyes, now open and shinning in the dimness, were on him.

If anything, his shakes only got worse.

Her silent stare wasn't helping his nerves settle from the mild adrenalin crash in the slightest. "Kara," As Lee heard himself breathe, his legs carried him to her of their own accord. Something painful coiled in his chest as he approached her side, her eyes tracking him every step of the way.

They raked him up and down, widening as they did so. He could just make out how her jaw was clenched tight. Her eyes roamed the room as if seeing it for the first time. "Is this real?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," Lee breathed, equally quietly, terrible possibilities arising in his mind.

"Frak," she muttered in reply, staring now at the blanket covering her and ignoring him. "Kinda hoped I was just dreaming. No, scratch that. I don't _like _my dreams."

Not knowing what to make of this, Lee said nothing. He didn't dare open his mouth at all, in fact. The pain in his chest had settled into a dull ache, there, but manageable. For all he knew it was the onset of a heart attack. Pity he'd so successfully avoided his last physical; he could have stood some reassurance on that point. _ Idiot_.

It would perfect justice if he fell dead at her feet. Wouldn't help, but it would serve them right.

Kara kept ignoring him and kept muttering to herself, as if a steady drone would blot him or the room or the universe out entirely. Perhaps it would. Perhaps that would be for the best.

"Not dreaming…what a joke. As if frakking nightmares would be any better for anything. At least the_ scenery _is better. More color."

Perhaps he should just take his side arm and blow his brains out. Or blow her's out.

"Can't stand the noise, though. You'd think Hades would put up a 'no wailing' sign or something…gods but I can't take this shit much more…"

Do her, then himself? End both their miseries in one fell swoop? It wasn't as if he gave a damn about anyone's forgiveness about anything in his life…

"I mean, what's the frakking _point _of sticking around? S'not like _anybody_ actually cares or notices or nothing. Frakking mess of it all…"

Gods where was his head that he was even _thinking _that?

His hand went unconsciously to his breast pocket, tapping it lightly to confirm her music chip, wings and ring were still there. His touchstones with reality, a reality Kara was clearly trying to ignore and, worryingly appeared to be succeeding at doing so.

"Head hurts…must mean I'm still alive…" There was no venom in this observation, merely annoyance. Lee could feel her drifting away from him as she crossed her arms and scowled at her covered legs.

"Kara?"

"Gotta...gotta just figure something out..."

"Kara, stop."

"I mean, how hard can it all be? S'not like I'm _committed _to anything..."

"That's enough!" Lee snarled.

"The frak it is," Kara snarled back, only glancing up at him for a second before refocusing on the bed. "What are you doing here?"

"Listening to your crap, as usual. _That's_ what."

"Then get the frak out."

"Not a chance."

"Frak you."

Lee felt that unpleasant_ thing _in his chest uncoil, and then tighten repeatedly. His head started pounding in tandem, which made it all the harder to think past the overwhelming urge to...to...the shakes were getting worse...and worse...

Suddenly he was calm. Perfectly, absolutely, utterly calm. "Why am I here?" he echoed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ring. It glinted in the indirect light funneled into the room, drawing Kara's attention. Her eyes went wide once again, her lips trembling as Lee calmly, deliberately took her left hand in his own. She was paralyzed, unable to breathe, never mind pull away, as he slipped the ring onto her second finger.

Her eye twitched once, twice, her gaze riveted on her left finger. Her right hand clutched the blanket in a white-knuckle grip.

Lee said, "_This_ is why I'm here, Kara. And I'm not frakking going anywhere."

Kara said nothing. Merely stared at her hand, eye twitching, skin rapidly paling as her lungs fought to restart.

_TBC..._

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Yes, there is a method to this madness. There is a _plan_ behind it all. I'd be ever so grateful if someone would please let me know what it is._

_Kidding! In seriousness there are reasons for everything we're seeing here, and they will be revealed in their time. The primary focus here is on Lee and Kara and all the demons that drove them to this point. Please let me know how much (or little) you're enjoying this so I know to continue it._


	13. Unstable Constructs

_Part Thirteen: Unstable Constructs_

Kara looked at the ring Lee had placed on her finger. It was the second time he had done so, and this time it felt as if he had soldered and sealed a crude iron manacle onto her wrist. And, for good measure, added one around her neck. Funny, she didn't remember it feeling so _heavy_ last time she wore it.

Then again, the last time she'd worn it was when baby was still alive and inside her. Look at how well _that_ turned out.

So why the frak was she just lying there, letting Lee take liberties like this and putting jewelry on her fingers? If she had two brain cells left she'd have torn off the offending (beautiful beyond words) piece of metal and thrown it back at him. Except her arms weren't working and all her muscles had gone AWOL, so there was little chance of that happening.

Why she'd kept the damned thing all these years, knowing she could have hocked it for plenty of cubits was a bit of mystery she'd never seriously examined. Yeah, that marked her as an absolute coward, but so what? That was the least of her sins.

Speaking of which, she noticed Lee was still talking. "Okay? Is that okay?"

"Is what okay?" she asked dully, eyes still on her finger and the metal weighing it down. Gods, but she felt numb, like her skin had become dense as battlestar's hull.

"The Priestess being from the Reform Caprican temple."

"What Priestess?"

"Kara..." Lee put a hand on her arm, his touch cool (Burning! Burning! Burning!) and so very light she barely felt it. "Kara, please look at me."

That was an easy one. "No."

"Kara, please..."

"No. Frak off."

"What?"

"Those wings make you deaf, Adama? Frak! Off!"

"No." Now it was his turn to sound like the dullard, albeit one in pain.

Something sharp poked through her ribs; she hadn't felt anything like it since – well --

"Fine," she muttered, deciding complete withdrawal was the most sensible option available. "Stand there for all I frakking care."

"No," Lee replied, moving momentarily out of her peripheral vision. Just when she'd dared to hope he'd gotten the message he reappeared, dragging a chair to her bedside and settling himself in like a king of the old kingdoms would into his throne. "No, Kara. I'm not going anywhere." He leaned in for the kill, his (_Gorgeous! Depthless! Irresistible!_) eyes narrowed and impossible to meet. "And neither are you."

She stumbled out a desperate excuse. "I -- you can't --"

"Nowhere, Kara. I'm not letting you get away again."

"No, you can't. I'm not worth --" Why the frak was it so hard for her to verbalize the simple, universal truth that she wasn't worth spit?

"Kara?" Lee's voice was so calm it pulled her eyes towards him. "Don't ever say that again."

Under normal circumstances, such an order would have resulted in another and very sincere _'Frak you!' _followed up with a good bit of bodily harm. Normally, she would have delighted in that kind of physical interaction; it was safe and familiar. And the look in Lee's eyes was the same as she would see when they'd worked each other's nerves raw, right before they were scraping their knuckles raw off each other's faces.

At the moment, Lee's gaze was easily ten times harsher, promising things that actually and truly (if briefly) frightened her into silence.

Taking her stunned silence as acceptance of the directive, Lee continued. "I asked if you minded if the Priestess was from a Reform Caprican temple." What the frak this had to do with anything escaped her, puzzlement clearly communicated by her expression. Lee might have even found it cute under other circumstances. "I'll take that as a no."

"No. I mean, _no_." Kara was stumbling again, trying to process his words and the situation and the universe in general, only to come up short. "Look, Lee. What do you care? You're not religious--"

"No, I'm not. But you are, or were, and I know you'll want this done right."

"Want _what_ done right?" He gave her an odd look, something mixing pity and amusement and...and something else she did not _dare_ consider as real because the gods had made it perfectly clear _that_ wasn't for her. Ever.

That look, however, held her still and all but compelled her mind to go in a direction she would normally have considered proscribed entirely. Then she noticed how his cool (_B__urning__!__B__urning__!__B__urning!_) touch had moved from her arm to her hand. Their fingers entwined, his sliding the ring more securely onto her digit.

He was talking again, his distracting fingers making it hard for her to understand the words. "We could always do it ourselves, if you'd prefer. For us at this point, it's really just a matter of a couple of legal forms. I think Picon recognizes private ceremonies like that, so there's precedent."

"Ceremonies..." she echoed, distracted and awash in the sensations of his touch. No one had touched her in so long, casually or intimately. She didn't let anyone touch her. Lee's touches were (_B__urning__!__B__urning__!__B__urning!_) in a class alone; she'd always known no other could compare, and so hadn't allowed it. Just the fact she was still drawing breath after loosing baby was enough of a betrayal of him.

"The only reason I ask is because the Reform temple is a few blocks away. I'm sure I can get a Priestess here fairly fast."

"Um." Kara shook her head, heart-certain she was about to miss something. She stalled. "Reform temple? I'm, um, Base Koboli."

"Do you want a Priest from there?"

"I, uh, I don't know," she breathed, still not processing his words or intent. "Wasn't, um, isn't your mom Orthodox?"

"Yeah, I suppose she still is." He shifted his grip slightly, playing now with the ring by rotating it this way and that. "But she's not what's important here. _You_ are all that matters." Kara was about to open her mouth and speak the universal truth of her fundamental worthlessness, only to have Lee fix her with the same look as before. It was no less effective in quieting her this time.

Her jaw closed with an audible 'clack'. Kara dared to return that look with as much venom as she could muster, which did no good; likely, it wouldn't have felled a flea with terminal cancer eating away at its innards. Kara could relate.

Well, whatever Lee had in mind, it was clear she was going to be part of it whether she wanted to or not. She'd just have to work on slipping out of it – whatever _it_ actually was – later, hopefully before she did too much damage to him or his family. It wasn't likely to be as clean or pretty as the last time she pulled up stakes and got out of the Adamas' lives; but, to her mind at least, it beat all conceivable alternatives, hands down.

Then again, Lee hadn't let go of her hand. That didn't bode well for her being able to sneak off. Time, she decided, to see how easily distracted he could be. "Who was outside?"

His fingers didn't pause in their movement over her own. "Hmm?"

"Outside? Just now."

"Oh, nobody you need to worry about." He wasn't sounding smug or condescending saying this. If anything, he sounded too calm and dismissive about it, the way someone sounds when they're trying not to panic over something. If her arms weren't so weighed down right then, she'd have hit him for trying to shelter her.

Hit him hard. Several times. With a blunt object. Unhelpful to her physical recovery perhaps, but damned if it wouldn't have made her feel better.

So that left her where? With Lee Adama holding her hand, his ring on her finger, and him asking which clergy was acceptable to her. Oh frakking gods -- he _couldn't_ be planning --

"Lee?"

"Hmm?" he hummed.

"No."

"Too late." _Now_ he was sounding dismissive. "You already said 'yes'."

"Now wait a frakking second!"

"Something the matter, Kara?"

The way he said her name nearly caused her to shudder. Instead she clenched her jaw and dug in her metaphorical heels. Looking straight on at Lee in the clear light for the first time, she caught sight of his sunken, exhausted eyes and unsteady shoulders. She remembered how Lee had been trembling as he hid near the doorway, how shell-shocked and wrung out he looked. His hair was uncharacteristically mussed and the uniform jacket on him looked like it had gone unchanged in a few days. In short, he looked a complete mess; something she would have previously gone to the grave denying was even _possible _with Lee Adama.

It was his eyes however that really worried her. They were still bright, shinning even, but it was a sharp sort of brightness. The kind one only sees along the edge of a well-honed blade -- right before it was plunged into one's vital organs in alphabetical order.

Kara, for the first time in her life, felt nervous to be in the presence of Lee Adama, the one person in all creation she had never, ever felt _nervous_ around. She'd been irritated on occasion, wanton and violent every now and then, aroused most of the time, but always and above all else she'd felt _safe_ with him.

However, not any more. Not when Lee looked ready to fly apart in front of her, tearing her apart in the process.

The ring on her finger never felt heavier. It weighed her down, keeping her from putting even an extra finger-length between them, never mind pulling her hand away.

"This is going to happen, Kara," Lee said in that same insanely calm voice, eyes flashing with a manic intensity so at odds with that voice. "I -- I don't think I'll make it without you."

"Oh, so it's all about _you_, huh?" The words just fell off her tongue, bitter as ashes. "I never said --"

"You said 'yes', Kara."

"I was half-drunk, you frak!"

"The frak you were."

"Frak you!"

"Not until after we're finished with the Priest."

"I'm not -- we're not --" Kara sputtered, outraged yet fighting laughter she had no right to express. Outright hysteria was but a few steps off.

"We are," Lee assured her.

"You are – what?" This came from the doorway. Both of them looked up, seeing a tense Caroline Adama eyeing them both carefully. Before Lee could even open his mouth, she said "Lee, I need to speak to you for a moment."

Lee gave Kara's hand a final squeeze, an act that suddenly made everything seem less scary than a few seconds earlier, then stood and followed his mother out. Kara found herself so _cold_ when he let go that she very nearly called him back.

Instead she lay back down, stared at the ceiling and wondered just what was happening to her. Why was she having a panic attack over this? They were just arguing the way they normally did – had – used to. Not once had she felt this outright panicky, even if it was over her – her – their – frak. _Frak!_ She couldn't even _think _the word! How in the name of the twelve Lords of Kobol was she supposed to recite sacred _vows_?

She jumped slightly at the sharp _thud _that shook the wall by the door. Sitting back up she wondered if this would be an opportune time to try slipping away. Caroline's sudden reappearance in the doorway put an end to that idea. Just as well. Kara knew she would need more intel - the layout of the hospital, the attentiveness and movements of the staff - before making a move. If she'd had that kind of calm restraint five years ago, she might still have been in uniform.

"I'm sorry about that, Kara," Caroline started only to stop herself and chuckle. "Dear gods, but I seem to be apologizing a lot lately."

"Where's Lee?" Kara asked in return, heart hammering at the hope she'd sent him away, even as her very skin screamed out for him to come back and hold _any _part of her again. A clear sure sign she'd finally and completely cracked, as surely as if the Furies had passed judgment. Ah, well, it was bound to happen. At least now she could get all the drugs she wanted, hopefully having a malfunction with them which would put her out of everyone's misery.

"I've sent Lee home," Caroline stated, taking the seat he'd vacated with a small sigh. "I'm afraid he hasn't gotten much sleep since he found you and it's starting to affect his judgment."

This prompted Kara to snicker. "He seemed pretty together to me." Five years since she ran, and she still couldn't keep from jumping to defend him. Not that she'd ever let him know that, of course…

"Kara, he was talking about getting a Priest in here and you two exchanging vows _now, _as in _this very minute_." Caroline's eyes flickered down to see the ring and she sighed again. "Even I know that's too much too soon."

"What do you care?" The stab of hot anger was as familiar as her skin. Kara embraced it without question or care for what prompted it.

"I care that my son was about to screw up the single most important relationship of his life." Caroline leaned forward slightly, her hand taking Kara's own. Her grip was different from Lee's; it was less frantic, less brittle. "I care even more that my daughter is too traumatized to realize what's happening."

"I'm _not_ traumatized." Kara stuck her bottom lip out and tried to cross her arms. Her muscles still weren't responding to orders. The best she could manage was an impolite frown and single-shoulder shrug.

"No?"

"No."

"Then what was that all that stuff you were muttering about the gods 'taking away baby' and you begging 'Lee, don't leave'?"

Kara snapped a glance at her, and then refocused on her lap. "I said all that aloud?"

"You were moaning it, Kara. Scared the daylights out of Nurse Gorgo and me."

"Yeah, well, I'm still not traumatized."

"Oh, really?" Caroline puffed, temper starting to fray. "Then what are you?"

Kara had to think about that one. "I'm – drugged." She snickered again. "Yeah, I'm high as a kite from the shit they've been injecting into me."

It was Caroline's turn to moan. "Kara…"

"What? It's not like you really want me around or anything." Kara had _no_ idea where that came from, and so was duly shocked when it all but knocked Caroline back in her chair. Tears suddenly pooled in both eyes, reducing everything to a soft focus. Kara found she didn't have the strength or will to wipe them away, and so didn't even try.

TBC…

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Thanks everyone who has reviewed this baby so far. Its actually turning into something far different than I originally envisioned, thanks in large measure to you. Fair warning: things are going to be taking a dark - but necessary - turn here shortly. Healing is rarely a clean or easy process, and these two crazy kids have got a _lot_ of it ahead of them._


	14. Flaws in the Structure

_(This literally just flew off the keyboard, so here comes a bonus chapter showing us what we didn't see in part 13. Yeah there's a bit of repetition, but bear with it. There's significant revelations here.)_

* * *

_Part Fourteen: Flaws in the Structure_

Watching the elevator close, Caroline felt no misgivings about all but running off the intruding quartet. Gods knew it wasn't that she especially enjoyed playing the heavy. Damn if it didn't feel good, though.

"Well done, ma'am," the Marine murmured to her after a few beats of silence. None of them wanted to break stance in case the quartet decided to reappear.

"Yeah," the uniform cop affirmed. "Cool play."

"Thanks," Caroline nodded politely, clasping her hands tightly to cover how they were starting to tremble, more from fatigue she had been ignoring for so damn long than actual fear. "Didn't think I had it in me," she added wryly.

"Remind me never to play triad with you," the cop put in. Caroline and Sergeant Garth both snickered aloud. "Seriously," the younger man pressed, his Aerelon accent coming to the fore. "Real cool play, that. Wish _I_ had that."

"Heh. You should see my girl in there at the game tables. She'd clean the house." Caroline said this with a small wave back towards the half-closed door behind them. "Speaking of whom, please excuse me."

"Ma'am," Sergeant Garth gave her a salute. The officer, whose nametag read 'Daavis', mirrored this. Caroline favored them with a smile.

"Can I trust we won't have to worry about anyone getting past you two guard-dogs?"

"No, we won't, ma'am."

Exchanging a final nod with Sergeant Garth and Officer Daavis, she turned back and stepped into her daughter's room. The sight that greeted her was at once welcome and suspect; Lee was sitting at Kara's bedside. At first glance, it looked like he was just holding her hand and making comforting noises to her; if that's all it had been she would have left them to it.

Except Lee wasn't _just_ sitting there and he wasn't _just_ holding her hand. They were talking as well, and what was being said hit Caroline like a pyramid ball fired from a rail gun.

"Too late," Lee stated dismissively. "You already said 'yes'."

Kara sputtered, "Now wait a frakking second!"

"Something the matter, Kara?" Lee hadn't raised or lowered his voice in the slightest, yet it silenced Kara completely and chilled Caroline to the bone. "This is going to happen, Kara," Lee said in that same insanely calm voice. Caroline could see how his eyes were shining now, the intensity to them a perfect counterpoint to his voice. "I -- I don't think I'll make it without you."

The way he stumbled over the words, as if he were trying to express concepts of great complexity in words too small to contain them, nearly sent Caroline reeling. Her feet nearly had her fleeing the room entirely, even as they equally sought to carry her fully in; her brain was conspicuously absent from this silent debate, leaving Caroline frozen in place.

Thankfully, Kara seemed immune to such energies. Or perhaps she simply cancelled out whatever forces Lee might have unleashed with her own. "Oh, so it's all about _you_, huh? I never said--"

"You said 'yes', Kara."

"I was half-drunk, you frak!"

"The frak you were."

"Frak you!"

"Not until after we're finished with the Priest."

"I'm not -- we're not --" Kara started sputtering again, this time clearly trying to suppress laughter. Others might think it was from how ridiculous this exchange was becoming. But Caroline knew from experience that Kara's laugh held no humor. It was something else she had in common with her daughter: the hysteria only the darkest grief could summon.

Lee naturally didn't notice, lost as he was in his own stew of emotions. "We are," he said with absolute certainty. Caroline quickly glanced past the threshold and down the hallway, half-expecting to see one of the clergy approaching. She wouldn't have put it past Lee to summon someone from temple. Hades, he'd actually declared his intentions when he'd summoned her here -- was it really just days ago?

"You are -- what?" Caroline asked her son, in that knowing voice only mothers might use. She quickly derailed any explanation or argument he might have offered, saying, "Lee, I need to speak to you for a moment." She was beyond relieved when he stood and followed her outside. "Give us some space," she told the Marine and policeman once they'd cleared the threshold, gratified when they did so. Life with Bill Adama had taught her a bit about dealing with those in authoritarian systems; namely, they would follow the voice of authority when it spoke, even if it wasn't wearing their uniform.

Then again, perhaps Lee was just being the dutiful son. Caroline mentally winced at the realization of how little she knew of her eldest.

"What was all that?" she asked him quietly, hoping he'd take the hint and keep his own voice down.

He did so, replying "That was Kara and I talking."

"That wasn't 'talking', Lee. That was _dictating_ to her."

"Maybe," he allowed with a careless shrug, the same sort his father had given her so often. "But it's going to happen, Mom."

"Yes, it will," Caroline agreed, trying to sound sincere. To her personal surprise, she realized she really was, at least on this point. Were circumstances a bit different, she would have called the Priest herself. But circumstances weren't different, and she knew _it _couldn't – shouldn't – happen, at least not at that moment. It was no surprise that Lee rejected this with a single, sharp shake of the head; another of his father's mannerisms that never failed to piss her off.

Caroline tried to reason with her stubborn offspring. "Lee, think about it…"

"I _have_," he stated in a hiss-snarl-growl that would have sent a full-grown Tauron ursala scampering like a whelp cub. Caroline managed to remain steadfast. "I've been doing nothing _but_ think about it since I found her."

"Then do you seriously think she's in any condition to recite anything apart from her own name?" She took a daring step closer to him. "Do you?" she pressed.

Lee studied his shoes, then the wall over her shoulder, his expression tight and guarded the whole while. That expression didn't shift a hair when he suddenly brought his arm up at a wide angle, and smashed a tight fist into the wall by the door. Caroline flinched but remained immobile, save to wave back Garth and Daavis, both of whom looked ready to sprint over. She doubted the hospital staff would appreciate having to clean blood off the walls.

"It's been five days, Lee," she reminded him softly. "She's here and she's safe. She is under guard, for gods**'** sake. And I know you well enough that you haven't slept since you came back on thirteenth Antioch." He didn't confirm her suspicion, but didn't deny it either. He took to studying his shoes again. "Lee, have you been listening to yourself?"

Her son snorted.

"Lee, you need a clear head if you're going to convince Kara to do anything."

"I get it. I get it." Gods but he sounded so tired. She pulled him by the arm a little further away from the door, worried at the lack of resistance to this.

"She's going to be released in the next day or two," Caroline informed him. She wasn't pulling this out of the air either, having spoken with Doctor Solon after the moaning incident. He'd given her referrals to several counselors, venturing the opinion that much of Kara's injuries were likely ones beyond his skills to mend. Caroline hadn't disagreed.

She shook off those thoughts and refocused. "She's going to be released soon, Lee," she repeated, all but willing his attention onto her. It worked, as he met her eyes. "She's going to need somewhere to stay while we get this worked out." There was no need to elaborate there.

"Right" Lee nodded. "My house…"

"Is a rat's nest, Lee. My gods."

"I was going to say 'isn't ready', Mom. Frak, what do you take me for?"

Caroline had to bite down on her first response. Instead, she said, "Go home. Get the guest bedroom ready. Get more sleep. And don't even _think_ of coming back here."

"So I'm banned, huh?"

"After that little performance with her? Count yourself lucky I'm letting you stay on the same continent." There was nothing even remotely humorous in the words; she was completely serious. She would recruit the Major and Commander Thornson, and gods knew who else, in order to enforce her will, if that's what it took to protect these two from each other – and themselves.

Lee sighed and nodded his acquiescence. "Now?"

"_Now, _Lee." He nodded again, turned, and moved off. The set of his shoulders and precision of his march broadcast his displeasure clearly. Caroline could feel Garth and Daavis tense behind her, not relaxing until her son was in the elevator with the doors closed behind him. She wondered if Lee would actually stay away as directed, wondering still more what she'd do if he didn't.

Knowing there was nothing to be done until such a situation arose, Caroline went back into Kara's room. She sat down in chair Lee had so recently vacated and chuckled despite herself. "I'm sorry about that, Kara. Dear gods, but I seem to be apologizing a lot lately."

"Where's Lee?" Kara asked quietly, not yet willing to look her way.

"I've sent Lee home." Caroline allowed herself a small sigh of frustration, directed more at herself than her son. "I'm afraid he hasn't gotten much sleep since he found you and it's starting to affect his judgment."

She fought to keep from flinching when Kara snickered harshly. "He seemed pretty together to me."

"Kara, he was talking about getting a Priest in here and you two exchanging vows _now, _as in _this very minute_." Caroline paused, debating whether to continue. In for a dinar, in for a cubit. "Even I know that's too much too soon," she added, hoping Kara would hear what was unspoken.

Instead, the younger woman hissed, "What do you care?"

Caroline blinked, stunned. "I care that my son was about to screw up the single most important relationship of his life." She leaned forward slightly, taking Kara's hand as gently as possible. "I care even more that my daughter is too traumatized to realize what's happening."

"I'm _not_ traumatized." This was said with all the energy of a funeral dirge and a careless shrug.

"No?"

"No."

Caroline clenched her jaw, equal parts frightened and furious. "Then what was that all that stuff you were muttering about the gods 'taking away baby' and you begging 'Lee, don't leave'?"

"I said all that aloud?" Gods help them both; Kara sounded well and truly surprised at this.

"You were moaning it, Kara. Scared the daylights out of Nurse Gorgo and me."

"Yeah, well, I'm still not traumatized."

Caroline puffed an unsteady breath. "Oh, really? Then what are you?"

Kara waited a few breaths of her own before answering. "I'm – drugged." She snickered again; a chilling, humorless sound. "Yeah, I'm high as a kite from the shit they've been injecting into me."

It was Caroline's turn to moan. "Kara…"

"What? It's not like you really want me around or anything."

Caroline recoiled, collapsing back into the chair as if she had been hit by a bowl-bat. She had to fight to breathe after that, tears she had been holding for days (_years!_) coming forth. Speech proved nearly impossible, yet she managed to push enough air through the proper tubes to get a few strangled words out. "I -- I'm -- so sorry --"

Apparently deaf to any apologies, Kara carried on, "I get it. Really." She heaved another deep sigh, as if she perceived profound truths and was left exhausted by it. "I sure as Hades don't want me around me -- most of the time. So I can't blame ya for, y'know, being happy I was gone." A wavering, bitter smile came next. "Good thing I left before, y'know, I did you an' Lee more harm, right? I mean, what if I had stayed an' we had gotten married after -- after I lost -- I mean, that would ruin Lee completely, right? That's all I'm good at. Ruining stuff. Everything I touch -- every -- frakkin' -- thing --"

Whatever denials Caroline might have offered died on her tongue. She had promised herself, the instant she h'd seen Kara lying in that bed, that no more lies, no matter how comforting or well intentioned, would pass her lips. It was so very tempting to forget that vow, just for a moment, just for the sake of building a small bridge between herself and this girl she'd treated so poorly.

The temptation only hardened Caroline's resolve. If Kara had -- could -- survive such inner turmoil, part of it caused by Caroline herself, who was _she_ to seek an easier path between them?

"Kara? Kara, look at me." Caroline reached out, cupping the younger woman's chin and nudging her gaze so their eyes met, however briefly. "Kara, I was wrong."

Kara jerked both her gaze and head away. "No."

"I was completely _wrong,_" Caroline persisted.

"No."

"Completely wrong."

"No!"

"Yes, Kara."

"No! No! No! No! No! No! No! _No__!__" _

Caroline clasped her daughter to her. Kara's resistance momentary was quickly overwhelmed, her too thin arms ultimately wrapping around the older woman's. Even then, her continued denials were wept into Caroline's blouse, a last ditch defense against the one thing she barely understood and could not endure:

Her mother's love.

_TBC...

* * *

_**De Author Seez: **_Some definitions may be in order:_

Tauron ursala: a Tauron animal resembling a Terran bear, with much the same lifecycle and stages of development.

Bowl-bat: an instrument used in a game resembling Stick Ball, although more solid and club-like.

A further note on date-expression: the Twelve Colonies commonly identify a given day by its sequential number within the given month (hence Caroline saying "the thirteenth of Antioch"). Particular days may have greater significance and so are identified by specific titles ("Marsday" for example), but otherwise the Colonial calendar is not divided into more discrete periods beyond the 12 months themselves.


	15. Material Support

_(A little lighthearted and bittersweet memories of jaw-breaking and heart-breaking coming. Get your tissues ready!)_

* * *

_Part Fifteen: Material Support_

Lee chose the thrice-daily monorail between Sparta and Caprica City as his method of conveyance to his mother's. The subsurface tube was quicker and its stations closer to the hospital, but it was also usually more heavily trafficked and Lee was really in no state of mind to fight with any crowds.

By contrast, the monorail went largely unused since those lunatic Deists initiated their spectacular (spectacularly unsuccessful) bombing campaign sixty years ago. The thing was more of a relic than the old Kangston Estates tenements and the _Galactica_ put together, frequented mainly by pensioners and lower-income commuters. It was slow, noisy, and uncomfortable to travel in. It suited Lee's mood perfectly and allowed him to think some more

Mainly, he pondered why the frak he'd acquiesced so readily to his mother. Oh, she'd made a very valid, very cogent point about how -- _crazed_ he'd been behaving. Looking back on it, well, it chilled him to think how badly he must have upset Kara with all his talk about Priests and ceremonies. There was every chance she thought he'd been planning their mutual funerary rites rather than their -- their -- frak.

_Frak!_ He couldn't even _think _the word now. How did he expect he'd be able to recite sacred vows to Kara or anybody else? The gods – if they even existed – would've probably done something nasty to him if he'd actually tried to go through with _it_.

The most he could do was snicker bitterly at his clearly-out-of-control ego. It was either that or he'd start laughing, and just never stop. Luckily, the car he was in was occupied by just an elderly couple and a youngish man clad in sooty coveralls, none of whom paid him much mind. Lee himself paid them even less, his attention on the scenery outside passing at a slow enough clip. He felt as if he were simply strolling past a still life painting in a museum, rather than sitting in a train car in the real world.

'Real world'. Now there was a frakking joke as nothing – not his rank, his job, his so-called career, even his vague and tormented dreams - _nothing_ in his life had been 'real' for the past five years.

Resting his head against the plastic of the window, Lee shut his eyes an indulged himself once more in bitter memories that were like ash on his tongue.

* * *

_Something was wrong. He knew it before he was even in sight of her apartment door._

"_Kara?" he called worriedly as he nudged the apartment door further open. Not having heard from her in ten days had left him more than slightly worried; borderline panicked, in fact, given they had never gone more than three at a stretch without speaking, even it if it was just to yell at each other again over whatever the argument was that time. _

_Finding her door unlocked was unnerving enough, but the fact it was cracked open? Lee had to fight to keep his breathing steady as he walked through the threshold, terrible images coming to mind. _

"_Kara?" he called again, knees feeling progressively less and less stable. Nothing in her minimalist apartment appeared out of place or disturbed. She'd insisted on her own place since they'd gotten her away from Socrata, and she'd always been good about housekeeping; not fastidious maybe, but not an outright slob. Unlike times past, this was not a sight Lee found reassuring. _

_Something was wrong. The near-sterile order of the rooms left him shaking._

_The front room and its attached kitchenette gave no clues to his discomfort. Everything was in its place as the last time he had been there, their parting after a not-so-quiet argument over her going to see her mother at the hospice. He hadn't punched her (this time) and she hadn't thrown anything (for a change), so their parting hadn't been as violent as it might have been. At least she'd let him kiss her good-bye, so she wasn't completely pissed with him saying she should just let Socrata rot. It didn't occur to him until later he should have offered to go with her._

_The bedroom was equally clean and orderly, which left him nearly gagging for breath, senses telling him something was so completely _wrong_ with the place it was like a physical blow. The problem was he couldn't see anything wrong with it all. Her bed was made, the dresser was closed and...clean._

_Lee blinked. This was Kara's bedroom, not his, and Kara Thrace didn't do 'clean'. She wasn't in the Fleet (yet) and didn't care much for whatever she deemed 'unnecessary maintenance'. _

_Making the bed qualified as 'unnecessary maintenance', as did closing dresser drawers all the way. _

_Lee immediately started pulling drawers out, stomach falling further and further somewhere dark and cold as each turned out empty. The topmost drawer – where he knew she kept her few pieces of jewelry and keepsakes, was equally empty._

_Frustration intermixed with panicked fear had him throwing the flimsy wooden pieces against the wall. A final, desperate hope was extinguished when he upended her narrow bed, searching for the leather portfolio he'd given her. He knew first hand that was where she kept her artwork – sketches and paintings both – and that she would never, ever leave with it. _

_There nothing under there. Nothing but dust._

_As he turned to enter the attached closet-sized shower, his boot knocked into the trashcan by the bed, causing its contents to rattle sharply. Lee paused and peered down into it, fingers going cold at the myriad possibilities he might find in there. Nothing in his darkest imaginings prepared him for the sight that greeted him: _

_The broken pieces of two statuettes. Kara's prayer tokens to Artemis and Aphrodite, shattered. _

_His legs buckled, all balance lost._

_He didn't scream. He didn't cry out. His throat was too small for the noise that built in his stomach, in his soul. If he tried, it would kill him. _

_Or perhaps he did scream, his hearing consumed by the gods- awful screeching of all the souls damned to Tartarus._

* * *

Lee shook himself awake as the train rattled to a stop, its brakes doing a pitch-perfect rendition of the scream of the harpies of myth. He rubbed his eyes and gazed out on the fringes of Caprica City, needing a few extra seconds to confirm he wasn't still dreaming.

Gods, how had he managed to actually fall asleep in that coffin? It had been nigh unto six deca since the Deists had tried to 'wipe away' the Twelve Lords with their suicide bombers, yet the federal government still hadn't fully cleaned up after them. Hard to believe his own grandfather had spent better than half his legal career defending those maniacs.

Standing with a small groan, Lee adjusted his uniform tunic and finger-combed his hair into something a little more presentable. It was fortunate there weren't any other commuters lingering, especially if his reflection in the window was anything to go by.

Shaking his head, Lee exited the train and descended to the street. The suburb streets to the city were free of traffic, the early evening rush not having hit, making it easy for him to flag down a taxi. Under other circumstances he would have walked to his mother's. But then under other circumstances he wouldn't have been contemplating eating his gun in despair of a relationship he hadn't allowed himself to consciously think about for the last five years.

He _still _might have walked – fatigue and distractions be damned – if not for an ingrained certainty that, if he tried, it was good odds he'd zone out along the way end up the latest of Caprica City's numerous traffic fatalities. Never mind his mother, he had entirely too much business with Kara to take ego-driven risks.

The cab drive made no effort to engage him in conversation, limiting their contact to the occasional glance at his passenger through the rear-view mirror. He otherwise accepted their destination, and subsequently payment, with the same indifferent silence that Lee would normally have found grating on the nerves. The drive was a mercifully short one, depositing him at the foot of the house's long driveway. Lee gave the rest of the high-priced neighborhood his mother inhabited no active attention. His concentration was taken up expressly by the effort of placing one foot ahead of the other and reaching the front door without simply collapsing flat onto his face.

He achieved this objective, only to nearly be undone by the mental effort needed to recall the door's security code. It took a frustrated groan and two false starts before he clearly recalled it: oh-seven-one-three-one-three; it was Zak's birthday and Lee was quite simply too exhausted, emotionally as well as physically, to feel the mild anger his mother's subtle favoritism normally evoked.

Entering the austere foyer, Lee let himself reflect how tomb-like the house seemed now. More than likely, he was reacting to the contrast between its open spaces versus the narrower confines of the _Atlantia_.

Rubbing his eyes as he ascended the staircase to the second floor, Lee tried to order his increasingly _dis_-ordered thoughts. Worries, hopes, fears, and frankly irrational impulses all jumbled together, the confusion becoming only worse with each successive step.

Exactly where was he going here? Why was he here, in this house again? Whose house was it? When did he get here?

He paused at the top of the stairs, letting himself lean against the wall. He pinched the bridge of his nose and asked himself where the frak was his head if he was asking himself such a godsbedamned stupid bunch of questions? He'd never, _never_ been this far out of his head before. Sure, he'd gotten well and truly hammered on both the good and bad stuff on occasion, but never to the point he'd completely _blanked_ on his context like this.

The closest he'd ever come was -- was --

Frak.

* * *

"_Dumb frak drunk," Kara groused without malice as she heaved his dead weight across her apartment threshold. Lee wasn't completely 'in the bottle' and made an actual effort to literally carry his own weight. It was a well-intentioned but futile effort, one that resulted in the two of them in a graceless tangle of legs and arms. He burst into throaty laughter at the mental sight of them. Kara just sneered and growled again, pulling herself free and this time grabbing him by the hair._

"_Up, Adama," was her only command. Lee complied as best he was able, managing only most basic coordination between mind and too-sloshed-on-ambrosia-joints._

_He giggled; not laughed, giggled. "Ohhh – oops!"_

"_Frak, you're heavy," Kara moaned, fighting from giggling herself._

"_Yup," Lee breathed, voice still hitched from laughter. "Yup. Heavy. Serious. Thas' me."_

"_Seriously drunk off your ass, Apollo." She managed to drag him the remaining few steps to her couch. "Seriously."_

"_Yup. Yup yup yup yup." Lee snickered, doing a vulgar imitation of an Aerelon hill-boy accent. "Buch ya love me."_

"_Don't push it."_

"_Yer always bossing me." He stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "Do yer best, Apollo. Study yer books, Apollo. You don't get t'see me naked 'less you graduate, Apollo. Be inna top five percent of yer class or I won't suck yer --"_

"_Ah, geez," Kara groaned, wondering when exactly she'd made _that _particular threat, unable to help flushing at just the thought of that forbidden act. Suddenly desperate for space, she retreated to the kitchenette and left him half-falling off the sofa. _

_Lee's voice followed her there. "I ha -- hate it when ya call me --"_

"_Fine!" she called, irritated. "I won't call you anymore." It was a worthless threat; she'd never be able to go more than half a day without needing to hear him. _

"_No no. Gotta hear yer voice once a day. Every day. Or I get all crazy stupid --"_

"_You already are crazy stupid."_

"_Yeah. Yeah, I am. 'Cept wi' you, I like being crazy stupid." Lee slid completely off the sofa, landing on the floor with both legs sprayed straight out before him._

_Kara slammed a cabinet door shut, resting both fists on the countertop, head bent low and breath coming hard. Much more of this and she'd likely forget all sense of propriety and perspective and just take a knife to his uniform. "Crazy stupid frakker," was her only vocal comment._

"_Ask ya something'?" Lee called to her._

"_What?" Kara hissed, still fighting the urge to attack his clothes and just take what she wanted._

"_You like yer name?"_

_That brought her up short. "What?" _

"_You like yer name?"_

"_What kind of question is that?"_

"_It's a simple one. D'you like yer name?" Lee felt his head roll back as his foggy vision took in the irregular contours of her ceiling. His voice took on a sing-song quality. "Kaaahhhh -- rrreeeehhhh -- ssssaaaahhhh. Annnnnteeeee -- gahn -- neeeeee. Thhhhhaaaa -- rahhhh -- seeeeeeeee." He looked up at her as she sat herself on the edge of the coffee table, chewing her lip worriedly. _

"_Gods, Lee. Just how much did you drink?"_

"_Jus' two bottles a'the'good stuff," he stated agreeably, then started humming. "Beeeee -- youuuuuu -- teeeeee – full. Thas' what yer name means."_

"_It does not," Kara shook her head, standing again._

"_Yes. Yes, it does. I read it -- uh, somewhere --"_

"_Sure you did."_

"_S'true!"_

"_Sure it is." She returned with a mug in her hand. "Drink this." Lee took the mug as instructed, gave it a sniff, then sipped. He promptly started gagging as the warm liquid made its way down his throat._

"_Whu…what was tha'?"_

"_Sherb tea."_

"_Tastes like dirt."_

"_Right. Drink."_

"_No."_

"_Drink it, or else."_

"_Or else what?" This brought Kara up short again, as he didn't sound petulant, merely -- curious._

_Leaning forward suggestively, she shook her upper-half and said "Or else -- the only place you'll ever see these --" She added an extra shake, just to reinforce the message. "The only place you'll ever see them again is in your dreams, Apollo. Now drink up!"_

_Lee took another shuddering sip then began pouting again. "I hate it when ya call me that," he muttered, staring into the mug._

"_What was that?"_

"_Hate it when you call me 'Apollo'. It's -- hard to live up to."_

"_It's your callsign, idiot."_

"_Yeah yeah. But when _you_ say it, s'like I'm _supposed_ to be great, because _you're_ the one saying it, so I gotta be the best. And I'm only the best 'cause you tell me I can _be_ the best, 'cause I love you and don't wanna let you down, 'cause everybody else's let you down and I'm _not_ everyone else. And I want you to have my name so everybody knows you're important and great and beautiful --" He looked up, taking in her stunned expression. "What?"_

"_Wha -- what?"_

"_What what?"_

"_Wha -- what're you saying, Apollo?"_

_Lee went back to pouting. "I hate that name."_

"_Lee!"_

"_What? I want you to have my name. Simple as that." He took another sip of the terrible-tasting tea and grimaced. "Frak, this tastes terrible."_

"_Lee," Kara tried again, voice controlled and brittle. "Lee, what are you saying?"_

"_I'm not saying anything," was his answer, struggling to his feet and muttering the whole while. "Gotta do this right. Gotta do this right. Gotta do this right." Standing with both feet planted on the floor, he swayed a moment (sloshing some of his tea onto the carpet) before steadying and digging for something in his pant's pocket. Kara watched him uneasily as he gave a growl of triumph and pulled out a small box._

_A small jeweler's box._

_Kara could only watch with a sort of detached horror as Lee swayed, then sank to one knee before her, and somehow managed to open the box without dropping his mug. It was truly an impressive display of dexterity, particularly given how his fingers were clearly not cooperating. By the time he finished, she was light-headed and ready to go comatose from the lack of oxygen to the blood and brain._

_If she hadn't already been sitting, Kara likely would have already _been_ comatose _and_ flat out on her back. She could only sit there and watch the surreal scene play itself out._

"_Ha! Got it!" Lee declared, pulling out a small ring that was topped with an even smaller diamond. Heedless of the shock and awe that warred in her non-expression, he carefully took her left hand and managed to slip the ring onto the appropriate finger._

"_We're getting married," he declared with a wide smile. _

_Kara looked at the ring that fit so perfectly on her finger, her eyes slowly tracking over to meet Lee's eyes. _

"_You'll be an Adama," he added, his smile widening further._

_Later she would apologize, profusely and humbly, over and over; he would accept it and forgive her, over and over. As apology, she'd put the most devout penitent and most wanton bacchanalia to shame; this too he would accept, over and over. She would scream his name in both rapture and curse and plea, as he would with hers. But that was later._

_Sitting there and then, with the ring on her finger and him kneeling before her, Kara replied in the only manner possible for her: _

_Her right fist balled into a white-knuckle grip and swung in a lightning-fast arc, catching him squarely on the cheek and knocking him completely unconscious._

* * *

Lee groaned, much as he had when he'd awoken from that particular -- incident. She had managed to loosen a molar and leave a hairline fracture in his jaw. And, of course, there were her badly bruised knuckles. He nevertheless counted himself lucky she'd hadn't used her ring-hand to hit him, although Lords knew he deserved a good scar or two -- and she'd never let him forget how he _much _deserved it. He'd taken reassurance from the fact she'd never taken the ring off in his presence after that, and had even made a point of displaying it whenever possible.

He didn't know if it was a good or bad sign that she'd given no resistance when he'd repeated his presumptive act a few hours earlier. The uncertainty was nearly enough to have him forget his mother and Doctor Solon both and catch the next atmoshuttle back to Sparta.

Clicking his tongue while trying to decide one way or the other, a mannerism he'd unconsciously developed in recent years, caused him to wince when it brought on a dull ache in his jaw. An effective reminder of who else was there and, more concretely, what kind of damage she might do if given the chance.

No, better he leave things (Kara specifically) to settle down before showing his face there again. Hopefully Kara would be less inclined to tear it off by then -- whenever 'then' turned out to be.

This conveniently brought his mother's other orders came to mind, so he marched himself down the hallway and hoped Caroline hadn't locked up all her unused bedrooms. Several tries however found only a series of locked doors. The only spare room he did find was one that happened – entirely coincidentally, he was sure – to be across the hall from his old room. It was the one that looked out over the expansive back yard and was furnished like a spread in _Country Styles and Life_: glass doors leading to a terrace, tasteful flower arrangement on the bedside table, skylight filling the room with light, and canopy bed.

All that was missing was the sheets for the bed itself. Unfortunately Lee found his mother had apparently reorganized the closets as what he remembered to be a linen closet had been turned into a storage space. Boxes of books and clothes took up shelves now. It shouldn't have been a surprise really, but Lee couldn't help be feel a tad irritated.

He was about to turn away and resume his search when he noted one of the boxes was open and filled with, of all things, photo albums. Thick ones at that.

Curiosity overcame irritation, leading Lee to pull out two of the volumes and return to the bedroom. He'd never known his mother to care much over memories, good or bad, and she'd never displayed much care for documenting them in any fashion. Then again, most of his own memories were tied up in either sheltering Zak from the eruptions between his parents, shielding Zak when his mother crawled into the bottle, or the ones he made with Kara.

Just thinking of her caused his jaw to sting a bit, but that was quickly forgotten compared to the pictures he found pasted onto the pages of the first album he opened.

He first came across a sequence of eleven photos, two or three to a page, catching various moments of a birthday party. **_Kara 17__th_ **was handwritten atop each page.

* * *

_Kara, with Lee and Zak acting as bookends, staring eyes wide at brightly frosted cake set before her._

_The three of them blowing in tandem to blow out the candles._

_Lee and Kara blowing out the last candle together._

_Kara, face set in profound concentration, making the first cut of the cake._

_Kara, features now set in contemplation, holding a tissue-wrapped package._

_Kara holding a mass of sky-blue fabric, looking lightly puzzled._

_Kara and Zak, sitting side-by-side and making faces towards the camera._

_Kara and Lee exchanging a look, the tissue-wrapped package being passed between them._

_A shot of the now-half-gone cake, its top all but unreadable._

_Kara laughing and Zak grinning._

_The sky blue dress neatly folded on the table top, a leather artist's portfolio sitting beside it. The stylized letters _"Κ"_ and _"Λ"_ embossed in gold on the latter's cover._

* * *

He'd forgotten about that day; that one seemingly perfect day when everything actually seemed to go _right_ between the two of them.

He'd _made_ himself forget it. Even if his body remembered what passed that night – their first together – his mind would never be allowed to recall anything in any clarity.

And the kicker of it all? He was man enough to admit – to himself and entirely in the privacy of his own head, at least – he'd done it because he was entirely too much a coward to confront certain unhappy realities said memories lay bare before him. Realities like how the memories could well have kept his soul warm in ways only Kara once had, and how they kept him from sliding completely into a shell of perpetual numbness, and how they blunted the sharp anger that was his preferred state of mind when it came to Kara Thrace's sudden departure.

What else had he forced himself to forget? How much more of their too-short-too-precious time had he jettisoned, all so he could keep that wound from healing?

Paging through the volume in his hands, those dormant bits of memory saw the light once again.

* * *

_His graduation from Third Form, when Kara had worn her blue dress._

_Her graduation, him in his Cadet uniform._

_His graduation from the Academy, her in a deep-red pants suit._

_A picnic outing on Canceron._

_A schoolwide field trip to Tauron's forest ranges, the two of them in the foreground._

_A tour of the Scopia shipyards, Kara looking far more excited than he was._

* * *

So many moments he'd never forgotten, simply -- boxed away, and never let back out.

* * *

_The two of them sitting on a lawn, watching a concert in a park somewhere._

_The two of them swimming in a lake._

_The two of them wandering around the exhibits of the Delphi Museum._

* * *

And now that they were out of their box? What now?

* * *

_Kara playfully shoving him in the museum, unsettlingly close to the Arrow of Apollo._

_A fifteen year-old Lee and a thirteen year-old Kara, painting a school project involving planets and stars._

_Kara at a carnival, a six-point star painted onto her cheek._

_Lee in Bacchus Festival costume: gold-trimmed robes of a First Assembly Archon._

* * *

What would -- could he -- _dared_ he do now?

_TBC…_

* * *

**De Author Asks: **_Enjoyed it? Hated it? Should I continue? Should I go back to my day job? The little blue button in the lower left corner is calling -- calling -- calling YOU! See you in a few!_

_PS. For some idea about what Lee was reminiscing over in the first half, check out the preview trailer for the upcoming "Caprica" telemovie on SciFi Channel. Never let it be said Ron and David don't come up with some winning ideas._


	16. Bona Fiscalia

_(And here's the next part, with some much needed explication at the bottom. Enjoy!)_

* * *

_Part Sixteen: Bona Fiscalia_

**Transcript Opens**

_Lyceus, Otto P., Major: _File FTS dash 92235661/Alpha dash Kappa Alpha Theta, Addendum Theta-oh-four. Major Otto Lyceus recording the sworn statement of Lieutenant Kara Thrace. Also present are Lieutenant Otto Torris, Fleet Medical Corps, and Mrs. Caroline Adama, civilian. Time is now twenty hundred oh-five on the fifteenth of Antioch, year 3002. Lieutenant Thrace, do you consent to having this statement recorded?

_Thrace, Karissa A., Lieutenant:_ Um, are you talking to me?

_Lyceus:_ Yes, Lieutenant. I'm speaking to you.

_Thrace:_ You sure? I haven't been a Lieutenant for the last three years.

_Lyceus:_ Your court martial and dismissal were reversed due to mitigating circumstances, with you recorded as _absentus_, on first Etharia in 3000. The charges were notated and wiped from your service record and your full rank and flight status restored at that time.

_Thrace:_ So for the last two and a half years I've been -- what? AWOL? How come I'm not in stockade or somewhere?

_Adama, Caroline:_ Yes, explain that, Major.

_Lyceus:_ Your rank and service were notated as "Extended Inactive" under Judge Advocate's Seal on fourteenth Etharia, 2098 when efforts to locate you failed. Given that, we couldn't put you in stockade even if you gunned down the entire Admiralty Board. But pending the outcome of current events and a final determination by Special Review, you'll be restored to full duty. I also expect you'll be put in for promotion to Captain based on the original circumstances.

_Thrace:_ That official?

_Lyceus:_ No.

_Thrace:_ Geez. What'd I do that was so special?

_Lyceus:_ I'd ask you hold your questions until later, Lieutenant. There's a bit of ground I'd like to cover first.

_Thrace:_ Shouldn't I -- aren't I supposed to have a representative present -- or something?

_Lyceus:_ You aren't under charges, Lieutenant. We can send for someone from the North Wing, but it will be at least a day.

_Thrace:_ Uh --

_Adama:_ I will act as her representative here.

_Lyceus:_ Um --

_Thrace:_ Uh --

_Adama: _I remind you, Major, that I'm still listed as her legal sponsor.

_Lyceus: _I recall, ma'am. Is that acceptable to you, Lieutenant?

_Thrace:_ I -- uh --

_Lyceus:_ We have ground to cover, but it can wait if you prefer.

_Thrace:_ I'm not under charges?

_Lyceus:_ Not here and not now.

_Thrace:_ So what's all this in aid of?

_Lyceus:_ Historical background for an on-going case.

_Thrace:_ Does this have something to do with Favors Trading at the old Marshfields facility?

_Lyceus:_ If at any moment you feel uncomfortable with this, you can say the word --

_Adama: I_ will say the word, Major. Your questions go through me first, understood?

_Thrace:_ I'm right sitting here, you know.

_Adama: _I'm well aware of that, Kara. Don't even think of answering him unless I approve.

_Lyceus:_ Lieutenant?

_Thrace:_ I -- let's get this over with.

_Lyceus:_ Very well. Mrs. Adama?

_Adama: _I say 'stop', you stop.

_Lyceus:_ Understood. Lieutenant, please state your full name.

_Thrace:_ Kara Thrace.

_Lyceus:_ Your full name, Lieutenant --

_Thrace:_ That _is_ my full name.

_Lyceus:_ Okay, fine. Do you recall your Fleet ID number?

_Thrace:_ Um, 784229001. I think.

_Lyceus:_ You were accepted to the Fleet Academy on twenty-ninth Skiro, 2997. Correct?

_Adama:_ Yes or no answers only for now, Kara.

_Thrace:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ You subsequently declined to take your seat in the incoming class?

_Thrace:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ When did you formally notify the Academy of this decision?

_Thrace:_ Um --

_Adama:_ It's okay if you can't remember the exact date, Kara.

_Thrace: _No, no. It's just -- I sent notification on seventh Hallas.

_Lyceus:_ In that letter you requested a berth in the reservist corps. Correct?

_Thrace:_ Yeah.

_Lyceus:_ Do you feel comfortable explaining your reasons for that request?

_Thrace:_ Uh, no.

_Lyceus:_ Were you approached by anyone in any official capacity on this matter at any time between the twenty-ninth of Skiro, 2996 and the seventh of Hallas, 2997?

_Thrace:_ What? No.

_Lyceus:_ Were you approached before seventh Antioch by anyone at all?

_Thrace:_ Approached? For what?

_Lyceus:_ Please answer the question first, Lieutenant.

_Thrace:_ No. Nobody talked to me about -- about -- that.

_Lyceus:_ Including Mrs. Adama or any of her family?

_Thrace:_ I hadn't spoken to the Adamas for, um, a few days before --

_Lyceus:_ Do you recall how many days?

_Thrace:_ Uh, we had dinner together on twenty-seventh Skiro. And the last I saw Lee was on first Hallas.

_Lyceus:_ After that?

_Thrace:_ No. No, I had no contact with -- anyone.

_Lyceus:_ Is it safe to say your decision was prompted by personal decision and not an external suggestion?

_Thrace:_ Yeah. Yes. Yes, it was.

_Lyceus:_ You didn't discuss this decision afterwards with the Adamas?

_Thrace:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ Did you discuss it with anyone?

_Thrace:_ No. And before you ask, I have had no contact with Adamas after first Hallas prior to waking up here.

_Lyceus:_ I see. How soon did you receive notification of your admission to the Reservist Corps?

_Thrace: _Twentieth Hallas.

_Lyceus:_ Your file reports your admission to the RC was confirmed on the tenth.

_Thrace:_ I was -- in transit.

_Lyceus:_ Between addresses?

_Thrace:_ Yeah.

_Lyceus:_ You entered the RC academy on Tauron on what date?

_Thrace:_ The third of Bromion.

_Lyceus:_ Where were you during the remainder interim?

_Thrace:_ I --

_Adama: _Kara, you don't need to --

_Lyceus:_ Let me rephrase. Did anyone approach you --?

_Thrace:_ Again with that? No, nobody frakking _approached_ me about anything before, during or after I lost --

_Adama:_ Kara, stop!

_Lyceus:_ Er, my apologies.

_Thrace:_ Okay, okay. Sorry. And to answer your question, no, nobody came to me about anything before I got to the Marshfields.

_Lyceus:_ I'd like to review the timeline thus far. You communicated in writing your declining the offered berth at the main Academy around seventh Hallas. And in the same communiqué you requested admission to the Reservists. Correct so far?

_Thrace:_ Yes.

_Lyceus:_ You subsequently learned of your acceptance there on the twentieth of Hallas.

_Thrace. _Again, yes.

_Lyceus: _You were duly sworn in upon entering the Reservists Corps training facility on the fourth of Bromion?

_Thrace:_ Yes.

_Lyceus: _In the interim, for the remainder of the month of Hallas and the full month of Metagara, you were not approached by anyone --

_Thrace: _C'mon --

_Lyceus: _By anyone concerning your admission or position there. Correct?

_Thrace: _Yeah, correct.

_Lyceus: _Okay, going forward. You went through the standard training courses upon being sworn in, yes?

_Thrace: _Yeah.

_Lyceus: _Your file reports you scored high across the board.

_Thrace: _If you say so. There were a lot of rejects and ejects in my cohort.

_Lyceus: _Yes, well, you scored high enough you were commissioned to Lieutenant Junior Grade on the -- fifteenth of Skiro, 2997. Nine months after admission. That's something of a record.

_Thrace: _Wrong. I got my bars on fourth of Hallas, 2998.

_Lyceus: _Your commission was officially recorded on the fifteenth.

_Thrace: _Is that important?

_Lyceus: _Not really. Nothing stands out to you about your time there?

_Thrace:_ Like what?

_Lyceus: _Were the instructors -- did they show greater attention to you or others that you saw?

_Thrace:_ I didn't notice.

_Lyceus: _The drills and classroom instruction didn't appear unusual?

_Thrace: _Not that I noticed. Seemed kinda -- simple -- a lot of it.

_Lyceus: _Simple?

_Thrace:_ Dumbed down. Some of the textbooks -- the tech manuals -- they dated back twenty years at least.

_Lyceus: _Your cohort graduated on time?

_Thrace:_ Um, no. We were delayed half a month due an outbreak of Scholls Fever. We got out on, um, mid-Antioch. I don't remember the exact day.

_Lyceus: _For the record, it was seventeenth Antioch. You were subsequently reassigned to the Marshfields academy, correct.

_Thrace: _Yeah. Pilot reserves.

_Lyceus: _You'd already been there?

_Thrace: _Yeah, a few times.

_Lyceus: _Officially?

_Thrace:_ Yeah. A couple of the instructors took us there to try us out in the Viper Sims.

_Lyceus: _You clearly did well.

_Thrace: _I guess.

_Lyceus: _Had you requested that posting?

_Thrace: _Yes, I did.

_Lyceus: _Can you outline your reasons for wanting it?

_Adama: _Major --

_Thrace:_ Not -- no.

_Lyceus: _I withdraw the question. Lieutenant?

_Thrace: _What?

_Lyceus: _You were commissioned in Skiro 2997. When did you receive your wings?

_Thrace: _I passed Basic Flight on first Metagara, 2998.

_Lyceus: _On first or second attempt?

_Thrace: _First.

_Lyceus: _That course is scheduled for only six months from Antioch through Bromion. Did you receive your first assignment after passing?

_Thrace: _Um, I heard I was supposed to be reviewed for Active Duty.

_Lyceus: _Nothing official, however?

_Thrace: _No.

_Lyceus: _You were part of an altercation with a Major Artos Lake shortly after your qualifying flight.

_Thrace: _ That's one word for it.

_Lyceus: _What word would you use, Lieutenant?

_Thrace: _Rape.

_Lyceus: _Major Lake -- attacked you?

_Thrace: _No. Major Lake attempted to rape me.

_Lyceus: _I --

_Thrace: _What? You want the gory details?

_Lyceus: _You filed a formal complaint to the JAD against him on the twenty-third of Pallasaid.

_Thrace: _Yeah, I did. Even included my underwear. You guys actually _read_ it?

_Adama: _Kara --

_Lyceus: _Yes, Lieutenant, we did. A formal investigation against Major Lakes' conduct was launched on thirty-first Poseidos.

_Thrace: _Let me guess, he got off with a formal reprimand.

_Lyceus: _He's presently serving five consecutive terms of fifteen years each at Camp Charoot on Geminon. Hard labor, all of it.

_Thrace: _Wha?

_Lyceus: _I'm only sorry we didn't get it underway before that farce of court martial you were subjected to.

_Thrace: _Oh --

_Lyceus: _A few more questions if I may, Lieutenant?

_Thrace:_ Uh, sure. Go ahead.

_Lyceus: _Can you describe your activities following your dismissal from the Reserves in 2998?

_Thrace: _How detailed do you want?

_Lyceus: _Whatever level you're comfortable with.

_Thrace: _Um, freelance work. Aircraft maintenance at local airfields.

_Lyceus: _Here on Caprica?

_Thrace: _Mostly. Some on Picon and Scorpia, too. I don't understand.

_Lyceus: _On retainer?

_Thrace: _No. Cash only.

_Lyceus: _I don't understand. Are you on-call?

_Thrace: _No. I just -- just go there and see what they need on any given day.

_Lyceus: _That's what you've been doing for the last three years?

_Thrace: _More or less.

_Lyceus: _I have to ask --

_Thrace: _What?

_Lyceus: _Have you been in anything illegal?

_Thrace: _All I do is fix engines and shit. I haven't held a stick in – well, years. Some of the guys I've done it for are -- have looked -- shady --

_Adama:_ Kara, stop talking. _Now!_

_Lyceus: _It's alright, ma'am. If the local police want to make an issue of it, they can call us first.

_Adama:_ Then why ask the question?

_Lyceus: _Because I want to have some idea if the Lieutenant's current injuries are related or not to my case.

_Thrace:_ Your case?

_Lyceus:_ Yes, Lieutenant. _My_ case.

* * *

**Transcript Pauses**

* * *

_Lyceus: _Lieutenant, were you aware you were still listed as a beneficiary on their family's medical plan?

_Thrace:_ No.

_Lyceus:_ Have you -- excuse me a moment, Lieutenant.

_Thrace:_ You two want to take this outside?

_Lyceus:_ Apologies. Lieutenant Torris was just reminding me of a side issue to be addressed.

_Adama:_ What 'side issue'?

_Lyceus: _Something for later, ma'am.

_Thrace:_ You two sure you don't want to take this outside?

_Lyceus:_ No need, Lieutenant. I think we've covered what we need to right now.

_Adama:_ Good, because we're done. Cut that tape.

**Transcript Ends.**

_TBC…_

* * *

**Calendar of the Twelve Colonies:** _Contrary to first impressions, much of the history of the twelve colonies was marked by almost innumerable divisions and differences in custom and conduct. Nowhere is this more clearly demonstrated than in timekeeping, which remained very much a local construct until after the First Cylon War, with little uniformity or standardization between the worlds. _

_This should not be surprising given that each world differed to some extent from the rest in both size and axial rotation. Virgon for example rotates on its axis every thirty-two hours, while Caprica (which while just 1 smaller to Virgon in diameter is also 10 less materially massive) does so in just twenty-eight, and Tauron (5 larger than Virgon in diameter) rotates fully in thirty-five hours. Additionally, while the twelve planets may orbit their tri-solar system in roughly the same speed, their varied environments give their respective populations different points of reference for their planetary 'year'. Sagittaron, being predominantly arid desert, organizes its culture and year around seasonal rains while temperate Caprica contends with mild rain and heavy snowfalls._

_Even points of commonality between the twelve colonies - mainly in terms of religious observances and holidays celebrating specific gods (the believed-extinct Deists notwithstanding) - had historically been scheduled to local conditions than a fixed day of the year. The Festival of Zeus, ostensibly the highest holy day in all twelve of the colonies, was held 212 days into the year on Aerilon (so to coincide with start of orchard picking season), but on Virgon was held on the 225th day (used to celebrate the release of that year's newly-bottled wines). Several colonies such as Geminon and Aquaria eschewed 'modern' holidays like Baachus and Alexadrus, and the more 'cosmopolitan' colonies of Caprica and Picon refused to recognize the traditional (and bloody) rites of Poseidon and the Blessing of Flames that were often central to the Sagittaron, Geminonese and Libran cultures._

_This state of affairs persisted up throughout the millennia, right up through the faltering Republica Era that ended with the First Cylon War. In part the limited nature of inter-colonial commerce encouraged such diversity; there was little economic incentive or cultural pressure to create a standardized calendar and system of timekeeping. Immigration between colonies, while not uncommon, was equally limited and émigrés were often pressured to assimilate. The celebrated jurist Joseph Adama, originally of Tauron, initially changed his family name to "Adams" after settling on Caprica._

_The Cylon War changed matters considerably, well beyond simply halting development in computer intelligence. With the infrastructures (economic as well as material) of eight of the twelve colonies left partially devastated, leading the remaining four – Caprica, Picon, Scorpia, and Canceron – to effectively impose more centralized authority over their cousins. This was not so much a power-grab by the strong over the weak as much as a move to ensure reconstruction of the colonies proceeded as smoothly as possible; the fact the Cylon's two 'fathers' – the missing Daniel Greystone and the crippled Araak Sylos – were from Caprica and Picon respectively was an irony missed by no-one. The Articles of Colonization were amended for a third time to create a uniform calendar across the twelve worlds, one based primarily the Caprican calendar of festivals and monens for sake of convenience as that colony became the focal point of administration and organization for the reconstruction effort. _

_The twelve colonies presently work within a year of 380 Caprican-standard days (local adjustments are made for differing planetary rotations), divided into twelve monens in the following chronological order: Hallas, Metagara, Bromion, Pallasaid, Maimek, Poseidos, Gamelion, Aentheter, Etharia, Antioch, Thargale, and Skiro. The new year is marked by the start of the planting season on Aerilon, primarily as a nod to that colony's import as the system's 'bread basket'; the Twelve High Holies are placed on fixed days, but local holidays are otherwise left to the respective colonies to celebrate. _

_While this arrangement has and continues to be a source of some friction between the 'rich' and 'poor' colonies, it has allowed the Federal system of administration maintain greater peace than the old Republica one managed. _

TBC


	17. Movement Aside

Part Seventeen: Movement Aside

_Part Seventeen: Movement Aside _

Caroline held her peace as Major Lyceus put away his tape recorder,and politely offered to see him and Lieutenant Torris out of the room. She gave Kara a reassuring pat on the arm, then stood and followed the two officers out. That veneer fell away the instant they were out of Kara's line of sight, face clouding like a Sagittaron storm.

She addressed the Major directly, saying, "If you ever try trap Kara into any kind of admission like that again, I promise I'll have the entire Public Litigation Office down here --"

Major Lyceus appeared unaffected, although his voice noticeably tightened as he replied, "I'm sure you will, Mrs. Adama."

"Don't test me, Major."

"Don't test _me_, Mrs. Adama. I'm in no mood to fence with you over the Lieutenant's standing."

Caroline bit her lip to keep from immediately responding to this. Years of marriage to Bill Adama had given her remarkable restraint there. "What you said in there, about her being up for Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Is that official?"

"Yes, as I'm sure Admiral Nagala has made clear to you on several occasions."

This resulted in a short staring contest between the two of them, something everyone else pretended not to see. Caroline wasn't conscious of any embarrassment or disquiet from the Major's statement. She actually felt a bit of relief that Duras hadn't been just humoring her about Kara's position in the Fleet. That didn't mean she wasn't still tempted to shove a fist down the Major's throat, but neither was it an overwhelming urge.

So where did that leave them all? That was the question she put to the Major, whose reply was cautiously bureaucratic. "My requirements have been met for the moment. I'm leaving Lieutenant Torris and Sergeant Garth here as a precaution. Once Lieutenant Thrace has been discharged from here I'm sure the Office of Review will want to speak to her about the evaluation process."

"JAD is finished with her?"

"We may need another interview or two with her concerning her original complaint against Major Lake. But that can also wait for awhile."

Caroline listened carefully for some kind of caveat. "You said she was not under any charges, remember?"

"And she isn't," Major Lyceus sighed, clearly becoming a tad frustrated with this line of discussion. "Mrs. Adama, I appreciate your desire to shield your ward from any further...unpleasantness. But please don't think my staff and _I_ aren't going to discharge our duties simply because you're feeling protective."

Caroline couldn't help but smirk. "And please don't think _I_ will simply stand by and let you bully an injured woman into confessing something that isn't her look-out." She took a step closer and dropped her voice to a stage whisper. "I'm well aware the investigation is still ongoing and is starting to threaten some rather prominent people. And you have yet to convince me your full intentions here are strictly informational. For all I know, you're here to cover this matter up, not prosecute it."

"If that were true, Mrs. Adama, do you think a few vague threats would deter us from doing so?" Caroline visibly gritted her teeth, a silent concession to his point. "I'm also well aware Lieutenant Thrace's twenty-fourth birthday is in ten days time, at which point whatever legal authority over her conduct you might claim will be effectively void."

"Done your homework, eh?"

"Yes, we have. And you can take it the altar that I and my staff don't scare off. Not at all." He gave her a tight smirk. "Even if it's Joe Adama's daughter-in-law doing the scaring."

They resumed their staring match. And again, it was Caroline who broke the silence. "Give me your word as an Officer of the Court you aren't out to hang my daughter for bringing all this out."

"You have it. I share the same worries you do about her and her safety."

She gave him an appraising look over. "You're from Leonis, aren't you?"

"Born and bred in Maceté," Lyceus nodded.

"Don't think it wins you points with me just because you're more plainspoken than most."

"I never thought it would."

"Hmph." Caroline gave the Major and his men a final look. "Don't try trapping Kara. Authority or no, you won't like the consequences."

"And the same to you, ma'am."

The two exchanged a nod and turned away almost simultaneously. One would almost think the entire exchange, from start to finish, had been choreographed by some higher power to whose purpose mortals such as they were simply not privy.

In actuality, it was Nurse Gorgo's arrival, pushing a small hospital cart that broke up their tense confab. Both were secretly thankful for it; neither had any real stomach for such confrontation and no desire to draw it out.

Caroline followed the nurse back into Kara's room, nostrils flaring as the scent of beef stew drifted after her. It reminded Caroline it had been some time since she'd last eaten. Perhaps sending Lee homelike that hadn't been the most inspired move, given she was now supremely reluctant to let Kara out of her sight.

"And how are we tonight, Karissa?" Gorgo asked as Caroline and Lieutenant Torris lingered just past the doorway.

"My name isn't Karissa, harpy," Kara huffed but otherwise put no energy into it.

"As you wish. Hungry?" The nurse pushed the cart closer, leading Kara to eye the tray with suspicion.

"Is it real food?"

"Its not algae paste." Gorogo settled the tray across Kara's lap, adjusting its folding legs so she had adequate clearance. She then uncovering the plate to reveal a collection of vacuum-sealed containers: a bowl labeled _Stew _across the top, a clear cup of juice, a packet of crackers, a cup of syrup-soaked fruits, and few utensils. Kara continued to frown in suspicion, even as she carefully pulled the seal off the bowl.

"You sure its not algae?" Kara asked, eyes narrowing. Her suspicion was not without merit; it was something of a running joke within the Colonial medical system that much of its catering menu was made from vegetable and protein by-products.

"See for yourself. But first, open." Before Kara could protest, Gorgo stuck an oral thermometer in her mouth and watched the chronograph on her wrist. After a minute had passed, she pulled it out and nodded to herself. "Enjoy you supper. I'll be back in an hour." With that, the nurse left the room without so much as acknowledging the other occupants.

Kara unwrapped the utensils and poked experimentally at the stew. When an equally tentative taste did not leave her doubled over and gagging for her life, she evidentially decided it was safe enough and began to tuck into it in earnest.

Caroline and the Lieutenant simply watched her carefully, eyes appraising her behaviors carefully albeit in rather different ways. For Caroline, it was to affirm Kara was recovering her strength, physical if not spiritual. Lieutenant Torris, being more a medical man, simply watched for any signs of physical reaction to the food. Neither spoke to the other nor sought to engage Kara herself in conversation. They both accurately read her hunched-over posture and singular attention to her meal as a warning against such engagement.

Kara ate slowly, without gusto and without any evident enjoyment. Caroline might have taken this as a bad sign if she hadn't seen similar mannerisms in the past. In the deca of their acquaintance, Kara had attended enough family dinners to give her a feel for the girl's moods. The very few formal occasions, when Caroline had entertained _Family_ at her home, had only reinforced what an acquired taste Kara Thrace was. Her _Old Roads_ relations might have been impressed at how easily Kara tickled the ivories at such a young age, but they'd been as uncertain how to deal with her otherwise direct manner as Kara had with their decided _lack_ of directness. It had given Caroline a slightly-perverse pleasure to see them all discomforted so -- Kara included.

Those occasions might have been likened to an irresistible force meeting a supposedly immovable object. A better metaphor was a nuclear warhead detonating against a wall of sun-dried mud. Small wonder there'd been so few invitations and dinners in the last few years; something Caroline, to her personal surprise, felt no genuine dismay over. Kara similarly had found reasons _not_ to come to the house as well, _particularly_ when it was Caroline's own invitation; _that_ dismayed her, although at the time she failed to connect the metaphorical dots.

Turning her attention back to the present, Caroline was relieved to see Kara had finished her meal, doing so with a grimace that held no genuine distaste. Gulping down the rest of the juice, she looked up and asked "You two gonna just stare at me or what?"

Caroline waited a beat, and then asked "Lieutenant Torris? Could I have a few minutes with Lieutenant Thrace?" Her eyes zeroed in on Kara's own, which glared back.

"I'll be right outside, ma'am."

"Thank you." She then walked over and sat on the side of the bed, even going so far as to boldly reach out and brush a few errant strands of Kara hair behind her ear. "How are you, Kara?" she asked quietly.

"Fine. I'm fine," was Kara's sharp reply.

"Play the Arch'mason with someone else, girl," Caroline replied with unusual roughness. "I want to hear you honestly."

Kara jerked her head away from those too-tender fingers as if burnt. "I'm used to it, okay? Someone beat me up. Big whoop. You think this is the first time it's happened since --"

"I didn't ask if you were used to it, Kara."

"Yeah, well, why do you care?" she hissed, eyes slitted.

Someone even marginally less thick-skinned than Caroline Olympiaz Darden Adama would haveshown at least a flicker of frustration at the repetition of this question. Caroline however simply let the question pass without acknowledgment. She'd reconciled herself that she'd be hearing that question quite a bit, and that constant answering of it – vocally it at least – was a case of fast diminishing returns. Better she use actions to answer it rather than words that could be ignored; she knew from experience one can say "I'm sorry" for the same repeated behavior only so many times before it starts to lose meaning.

To that end, she leaned around and fluffed Kara's pillows and adjusted the back so Kara could sit up as comfortably as possible. "Better?"

Kara settled herself, eyes still down to slits. "Yeah. Yeah, good."

"Good. Get used to it. You'll be staying with me once you're discharged. At least until Lee gets his -- sorry, your -- house cleaned out and ready for you."

Kara swallowed the bait immediately. "Lee has a house?"

"Yes. He signed the papers the day he found you'd -- disappeared." Caroline resolved not to use the words 'left' or 'ran away' for the time being. They'd serve no purpose other than to harden Kara's resistance. She'd have to voice them herself in any case, if they were all to move beyond that point; Lords knew how much damage it had caused Lee, with her own conduct not helping in the slightest.

She couldn't even blame it on the bottle, unlike so many past hurts she'd inflicted on her son. No, her poorly-hidden relief at Kara's unexpected flight was a sin she would own forever.

"Lee? Bought a house?" Kara was clearly having such difficulty with the concept she didn't notice Caroline's momentary distraction or her choice of possessive.

"Yes, Kara. He bought you a house. It's not much, and gods know he's avoided staying in it like it was plagued."

"Why?"

"I think it has something to do with that ring on your finger, Kara." Caroline was amazed how -- _steady_ her voice was saying it. She physically hurt at this point, watching the woman who - but for a handful of phrases from a Priest and a few signatures - was her daughter, struggle with the simplest concept.

There was some part of her that wondered at her insistence at keeping Kara close. A desire for redemption with her son, perhaps, to atone for the injuries she had done? A gods given chance to replace the child she had lost?

Then again, after what she'd put Lee through growing up, was it the best idea to let someone as damaged as Kara become attached to him?

'Damaged,' Caroline mentally snickered at that charming euphemism. 'Takes one to know one' was another that looped over and over in her head.

What little had been stated both in that interview with the Major and afterwards suggested strongly she had been no neither idle or safe. She needed to get a look at Kara's medical charts if she were going to have some idea about what had happened in the last five years. She was confident she knew enough history to be able to distinguish between new hurts and old ones. Physical ones, at any rate. Caroline didn't allow herself to even _think_ about any other sort.

Her hand went unconsciously to her pants pocket, making sure the referral Doctor Solon had given her was still there. Doubtless they would need a good bit of help to sort this all out.

Kara asked "Where is Lee? He run off or what?"

"He's at my house, getting some rest."

Kara's indelicate snort led Caroline to wonder if some prayers and sacrifices to all Twelve Lords weren't in order as well. It certainly couldn't hurt, right?

_TBC…_


	18. From Afield

_**From the Department of "Where the Frak Have You Been?!": **Sorry for the extended silence here, everyone. I've been wrestling with RL and writer's block for awhile. That, plus there've been unexpected complications with my wife's pregnancy; nothing life threatening, thank the gods, but serious enough to keep me distracted for a bit. _

_Well, that's over with for the moment. Off we go again..._

* * *

_Part Eighteen: From Afield_

Somewhere between paging through the third and fourth albums - between images of long-forgotten birthdays and some family function that had him in formal clothes and looking uncomfortable - Lee fell asleep sitting in the day chair in the same bedroom. Sleep wasn't something he had welcomed of late. His dreams were either just plain disturbing, usually involving skies aflame and his Viper falling into storm clouds, or they put a negative cast on what few good memories he'd clung to.

That night wasn**'**t much different as the latter played out in his mind.

* * *

"_This is so frakked," Kara grumbled, digging her heel into the plush carpet. _

_Lee shared the sentiment wholeheartedly, but merely scratched at his starched collar again. Mom had insisted the pair of them attend this dinner, despite their Second Form exams being in two days time and they still had a great deal of studying to finish. Lee wouldn't have actually minded the excuse to see Kara in a dress, something she'd sworn just wouldn't happen, if Mom hadn't likewise commanded he appear in formal suit as well. The suit itself would have been tolerable, but the damned collar was half a size too small and the starch made it nearly intolerable._

_Kara managed to look even more uncomfortable, despite the fact her dress fit her like a loose glove and was raw Aquarian silk. Maybe it was her shoes, although he couldn't see how medium heels would be that hard on her. She had even consented to having her hair drawn into a simple braid gathered at her shoulder. In Lee's opinion, she had never looked more beautiful._

_He immediately quashed that thought, which felt -- weird -- to have about Kara. Sure, they were best friends, and yes, she was staying with them while this business about her legal divorce from her moth -- from Socrata -- was worked out. However, it wasn't as if they were – as if she wanted --_

"_Hey, cousin," a cheery voice mercifully derailed that line of thought. Lee fought down a hiss of dismay. He knew that voice immediately. _

"_Lemme do the talkin'," he muttered to Kara, then turned and addressed their approaching peer. "Hello, Maat." _

_Maat Darden was a pitch-haired girl who seemed too boisterous for her willowy frame, with a smile that was full of perfectly straight teeth that never failed to put Lee's nerves on edge. The fact the girl, the daughter of Mom's elder brother's sister-in-law's third marriage, always gravitated towards him and wouldn't be shaken off only added to his discomfort. He just didn't like that kind of wild energy around him; it was -- something he just didn't understand or have a clue how to handle._

_The source of this discomfort appeared utterly blind to the effect she had on him. This naturally just further fueled Lee's unease in a sort of perpetual negative feedback loop._

_That evening saw Maat dressed in a First Settlement fashion: a bunch of interlocking strips of white cotton that covered all the important bits and had plenty left over to make a decent skirt, all of it held together by what looked like a length of ordinary rope. It made Lee feel a tad embarrassed that he couldn't resist examining her outfit closely -- and wondering how Kara would look in it._

_He quickly shook his head and addressed his cousin directly. "Um, how're things?" _

"_Good. Great. I'm off to the Academy in Thebes next term. Full scholarship, too." _

"_Good to hear," Lee nodded along with her. It was good news actually. The Academy in Thebes was off-world, which meant there was less chance of encountering her here on Caprica. The girl always seemed to find and gravitate in his direction whenever they happened to be on the same planet._

"_Yup. I'll be studying marketing and design." _

"_Sounds good. I'm sure you'll be terrific at it." _

"_Yup. Maybe we can go into business together, eh?" Lee stared at her, not certain how to respond to something like that. _

"_Uh -- "was his remarkably (given the circumstances) cogent response. "I'll -- have to -- um --"" _

_Kara came to his rescue. "Business, Lee?" she queried, sounded profoundly and deeply interested in the subject. Maat started and spun around to look at her, as if seeing her for the first time - which given her flighty nature, was very likely the case._

"_I'm sorry? And you are? What're you doing here? How do you know Lee? I've never seen you before. Are you someone new?" _

_Kara smiled in a way he hadn't previously seen in her. Her answer came with smooth calm. "In order: No problem, Kara Thrace, I'm with Lee, we met in school, no you haven't, and no, I'm not." _

_Maat blinked, trying to catch up. Lee blinked as well, having forgotten how good Kara was at befuddling the unwary. He debated a few precious seconds whether to save his cousin from further verbal drubbing; Maat simply looked like she was still trying to process Kara's answers. It was nearly enough to lead him to intervene on her behalf and try leading Kara away. Where he could take her, he truly had no idea; his mother was entertaining roughly ten of her relations, plus spouses and children of various ages and temperaments. It was, literally, a full house._

_Kara just kept smiling, which only added to Lee's growing anxiety. It was an expression that held little humor, which meant she was even more anxious than he was. And that meant he had to get them out of this conversation quickly before it got the better of her. Or him for that matter. Gods, just five years with her in his life and he was entertaining thoughts he'd previously refused._

_Shouldn't that bother him more than it did?_

_Unfortunately, he was coming up shorter still on excuses. "Um, Maat? I -- uh --?" _

_Maat must have taken the hint. "I, uh, thanks. Lee? Gotta run. Talk to you later." That, or she was even more anxious than Lee to quit the conversation. She moved off, giving them a quick glance over her shoulder as she left, and then quickly losing herself in the crowd._

"_Was it something' I said?" Kara asked in all contrived innocence, her native Picon accent touching her words as it sometimes did. Lee shot her a look, one which immediately started to falter, as did Kara's answering one. _

"_Want to go outside?" he asked._

"_Frak yah! Lead on." _

_They maneuvered their way though clusters of chattering people, studiously ignoring all the noise. Their attention was taken up with just keeping a hold on the other's hand. _

_They had very nearly made it to the door leading to the veranda outside, when Caroline Adama's voice cut through the noise. "Kara, stay put!" _

_Even though Kara was the one named, they both froze; Lee did, mainly out of habit and duty, while Kara did because she genuinely liked and respected Caroline. That, plus Kara felt she owed the elder Adama for pulling her out of that hole-in-the-ground her momma -- Socrata -- had them staying in earlier that year._

_They stood there and waited, Lee debating whether he should give Kara a sympathetic look. She'd been staying with them for three monens now and Lee had gotten a good feel for her moods. The encounter with Maat had put her a bit off-balance. The way her left eye narrowed tighter than her right was the giveaway - hence his original suggestion to escape outside. _

_So much for that idea. As Caroline moved into view and waved towards them, Lee hoped against hope his mother wasn't going to ask Kara to --_

"_Kara? Come play for us?" Caroline made the 'suggestion' grandly with a wide wave toward the grand piano across the room. Lee winced at the infinitesimal slur he could hear in his mother's speech. She had already had a couple of drinks of the hard stuff, or several the light stuff; either way, his mother wasn't in full command herself anymore. Things were likely only going to get worse from here on. Thank the gods Zak was away at a sleepover._

_Despite her professed reluctance to indulge in casual physical contact, Kara didn't let go of Lee's hand as she made her way toward the piano; he wouldn't have let go anyway. He'd found he liked holding her hand, and most any other part she would allow. That invariably led his thoughts in directions he -- didn't -- shouldn't -- be going towards right then._

_It actually didn't take long for them to reach the piano. Judging by how twitchy her hand had become, Kara was only just holding it together. Only long experience gave Lee clues to her real state of mind. All the same, he had no idea what he could say to her to calm her frayed nerves._

_The most Lee could do in the moment was stand at her elbow like a sentinel and watching as she first cracked her knuckles, then placed her fingertips lightly on the keys of the piano itself. They had only the passing attention of those nearby at first; a small mercy as Kara had to sit there for several long seconds to think up a decent tune._

_She evidently recalled something, as her fingers were soon dancing across the keys, filling the air with music. Lee recognized it as one of her father's pieces, untitled like all the rest yet wholly unique._

_He said nothing as an increasing number of guests began gravitate towards them. Like Kara herself, his whole attention was taken up with the music. All conversation died and no one tried to interrupt the mesmerizing sounds._

_It was, quite simply, too beautiful to do anything more than simply listen._

BRRRRRRREEEEEEE

_At least it was – until the house phone sounded off._

BRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE

_Phone?_

* * *

Lee started awake, all but falling out of the chair as the house phone screeched from downstairs. Dear gods, but it was an ear-splitting racket. It was probably necessary given the size of the house.

BRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Frak," Lee cursed, getting to his feet and stumbling out of the bedroom. He felt stiff and in miserable pain from toes to crown, even needing to brace himself against the wall to make it down the hall to the stairs. Fortunately, it proved a passing discomfort and he was able to descend without tumbling. The damned ringing wasn't doing anything for his sense of balance.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"I'm coming. I'm coming!" More by luck than intent, he ended up in the kitchen where the phone was mounted to one of the newer models of plasma-display screens. For someone whom so often decried how "mechanistic" society was becoming – despite the fact much of her family's fortune was bound up in manufacturing and research contracts – his mother never seemed to lack for the latest gadgets. Lee sometimes wondered if the stories that his mother's immediate family had some kind of blood ties to the much-derided Greystone family; it might explain a bit about Caroline's -- eccentricities.

Lee picked up the receiver and keyed in connection code for the PDS, wondering who could possibly be calling at that hour in the morning. The image that formed on the screen very nearly had him cursing aloud.

"_Lee?"_ Commander William Adama could be seen frowning at his eldest son. _"What are you doing there?"_

"Good morning, Commander," Lee said with commendable gravity and formality. The familiar anger with the man and his rank gave Lee strength.

His father either missed his son's displeasure or chose simply to ignore it. _"I thought you were still on the Atlantia."_

"I'm on leave, pending temporary reassignment to the JAD," was Lee's emotionless reply. His father frowned, clearly puzzled and likely more by the words than their delivery.

"_Are you all right, son?"_

"Fine. Never better." It was such a blatant lie in both words and delivery as to defy description. Lee followed it up with a marginally more polite query of "Was there something you wanted?"

The Commander, as Lee had so easily come to think of his father, hesitated a moment before answering. _"Is...your mother home?"_

"No."

"_Do you know where she is?"_

"Yes."

This led to another lengthy pause between them, the Commander looking uncharacteristically off-balance by Lee's not-wholly-unusual manner. He actually seemed at a loss how to even broach the original subject. _"Will you let her know I called?"_

"Sure."

"_Aren't you going to ask…Lee?"_

"Yes, Sir?"

"_Are you okay?"_

_NO!_ Lee wanted to scream. _No, I'm not frakking okay. Because I've just learned the people you chose over your family tried to rape and kill the soul of the woman I love. I will never, ever frakking forgive them -- or you -- for that! I want to tear the whole frakking fleet apart with my bare hands and strangle everyone wearing its uniform because you're all frakking guilty guilty GUILTY! _

Instead of saying all that, he simply nodded and said "Yes."

All conversation died as they stared at one another through the metaphorical looking glass, neither wholly seeing the other clearly nor entirely because of the weakness of the signal. Lee wrestled in that silence with what he might tell his father about recent developments, ultimately unwilling to broach the subject. In his mind, his father now embodied the soullessness of the same fleet that had nearly destroyed his Kara. He was so furious at what he learned the previous day, not aware of how intensely until that moment. It was nearly enough to cause him to put his fist into the screen just because he needed to _hit_ something -- or someone -- related to that disgusting business, no matter how tangentially.

Instinctively knowing that much about his current state of mind, Lee forced himself not to move a single muscle; he put double the effort into keeping his tongue still lest things spill out that need not be heard over an unsecured phone line. There was also the fact he really, _really_ wanted to strike out at someone he could plaster a distinct face onto, a stand-in for the faceless persons who had tried to reduce Kara to a common whore.

Lee knew this was unfair, at least in retrospect. His father would have no less outraged with Kara's situation had he known the full details, rather than the vague rumors and half-truths swirling about her name. Certainly he'd been suitably and rightly furious when he had learned the full extent of the scandal's reach years ago, or so Zak had related in their infrequent calls.

However, Lee was in no mind to receive or accept such sentiments. "I'll let her know you called."

"_Thanks. Will you be on Caprica long?"_

"I don't know. As I said, I'll pass along your message to Mom."

"_Okay. Thanks."_

Lee cut the connection, utterly exhausted. His tolerance -- for both his father and how he had come to represent, however passingly, a symbol of the many sour things in the fleet they both served -- utterly exhausted. Another few seconds of talking and he might well have acted on his anger. As the screen went blank, Lee had nothing further to focus on except his own vague reflection in the glass. That image alone was nearly enough to have him swinging his fists, rage at his five years of self-involved blindness nearly as overwhelming as the fury directed towards those who caused all this chaos.

He was nevertheless collected enough to recognize how irrational such thoughts were. He could just restrain himself from acting up either.

_Just._

Besides, Lee was able to reason, there was no point in breaking his mother's gadgets and dribbling blood all over her kitchen. It might give the wrong impression about his state of mind. Gods knew they all had enough to worry about.

* * *

The sun was only now rising outside, heralding the start to yet another day. Lee reached over to the coffee maker and started a fresh pot. He mentally promised he'd he would also find himself something substantial to eat, because there was a lot still to do and he was determined to get it done; Kara would be coming home soon.

For the moment, though, he was content to just sit there at the counter as his adrenaline crashed and the sky outside brightened. Barely a minute later, his head dropped into crossed arms resting on the counter, his eyes closed and mind tumbled back into a mercifully dreamless sleep. The beeping of the finished coffee brew failed to rouse him, as did the scent of slow-burning coffee that soon filled the air.

* * *

It would be hours before Lee roused again, by which time he would be aching in too many places to count and would only have enough strength to stumble back upstairs and collapse into his old bed. Morpheus would take mercy on him and allow no dreams to disturb his much-needed rest.

* * *

That long and refreshing rest came to an end when he heard his mother's voice calling out. "Lee? Lee! Get down here us and help already!"

_TBC…soon (I hope!).  
_


	19. Release and Catches

**Author's Ranting: **_What follows is the result of 48 hours of caffeine-fueled, dream-driven, divinely-inspired hammering on the keyboard. With thanks to all my Betas; anything that reads poorly is my fault entirely. Enjoy the two-fer._

* * *

_Part Nineteen: Release and Catches_

For the two days following her throwing Lee out and serving as a human shield, Caroline would leave Kara's room for only two hours at a stretch. Even then, it was only at the polite and quiet suggestion from Nurse Gorgo that she use the hospital's facilities to bathe and change into something a little less ripe. That, plus squeezing a very serious vow, upon the honor the much-celebrated Admiral Rittenhouse no less, out of Major Lyceus that Kara would be safe in her absence; it was the equivalent of a priest's blood-vow on the Altar of Zeus itself and gave her sufficient reassurance that her brief absences wouldn't further endanger Kara.

Caroline had little doubt Kara had missed any of those exchanges; it helped the girl had taken a temporary vow of silence in the wake of learning Lee would not be returning, refusing to be enticed into conversation during the short periods she was visibly awake. It saved Caroline herself a pound or two of pointless argument.

These short expeditions allowed Caroline to gather needed supplies: fresh clothes and toiletries for Kara and herself. Thankfully, there were a few shops near the hospital. Nothing glamorous admittedly, certainly nowhere Caroline might normally frequent, but which provided what she needed.

Well, nearly so. What she _really_ needed was to be able to sleep for a few hours without having to worry that Kara would pull a runner _again_ or that Lee would show up and eat his boots _again_. To ensure either of those contingencies would not happen required near-constant vigilance for a bit.

There was no point in asking Mumma or her brothers to assist; they had made clear their disapproved of Kara as pointedly as they had their dislike of her marriage. She half-contemplated calling Bill off _Galactica_ for help but the idea died quickly. Never mind he'd only just been given command of that relic; the Favors Trading mess wasn't something she'd broached in their infrequent calls, but she knew 'Husker' well enough to see the regular march of bad news and further scandal was wearing on him. She had no idea how he'd react to learning Lee was marrying the woman singularly responsible for starting it all, and sure as Hades didn't want to risk an all-out war between father and son over it.

Caroline accepted that, for the time being, she was on her own here in keeping her children from doing themselves more harm.

Those brief foraging expeditions didn't actually help much there. Having to work out what clothes and underwear would most likely fit Kara, mentally contrasting the athletic physique Caroline remembered from five years ago with the too-slender and battered form lying in that hospital bed. It hurt, nearly as much watching her and Lee hammer each other's buttons so easily.

She managed all the same to purchase a few pairs of track pants, sweatshirts, and the sort of plain bra and panties Kara always seemed to favor in the correct size. The only embarrassment Caroline felt making these purchases was the persistent suspicion she was getting the size wrong, which led her to go back to the same store twice and exchange her purchases to one size up, then two sizes down. The clerk was remarkably patient with her during it all. On the other hand, perhaps it was just that she paid for everything with her GoldCybol card.

Getting clothes for herself involved a bit more debate, mainly because her normal tastes insisted on particular labels. It was an aspect of her upbringing that had lingered through the years but which, at least at that moment, she found a tad troubling. Her daughter was in the hospital, having been severely beaten, and she was worried over the brand of slacks she would be willing to purchase? Was that anywhere near an appropriate sense of priorities?

Her stomach had growled at her several times that morning and afternoon, insisting on food even though Caroline felt no genuine appetite. She bought some fruit-flavored concoction from a kiosk near the hospital after getting Kara's toiletries; it was tarter than her usual fare, leaving her to wonder how serious a sugar rush she would have to suffer later.

These little excursions aside, Caroline also took advantage of the shower rooms available within the hospital itself. It left her feeling more refreshed and cleaner in both body and mind. Sadly, such cleanliness didn't automatically lead to any clearer plan for the future. Tossing Lee out, blocking those so-called officers from Kara, and shutting down the interview with Kara were all just tactical moves taken in the moment to buy time. Beyond that?

It occurred to her that Lee would no doubt insist on spending as much time as possible at her house. She thought it unlikely Kara would be in any better frame of mind to deal with him, so Caroline put her mind to thinking up errands and such she could have him running during the interim. Perhaps the Major could help there. Besides, there was his house still needing cleaning out and fixing up...

A longer-term strategy however remained elusive. Something she'd recognize later as a major mistake, one that would cost her dearly.

* * *

Her return from these excursions, arms full of fresh purchases, did little to break Kara's studied lack of interest in the world. Caroline made a few abortive attempts to engage her in conversation, not surprised but disappointed nonetheless when the girl refused to do more than nod or shake her head. It was a relief to see Kara eating regularly when Nurse Gorgo brought her meals. Caroline watched Kara's face carefully for the slightest sign of discomfort or pain as she worked her way through stew, broth, juice and other simple fare. She saw none, but was also familiar enough with Kara Thrace to know she wouldn't allow such feelings show if she could help it.

Doctor Solon's visits elicited a bit more of a reaction from Kara, presumably because he made such approving noises about her healing. The wrappings were removed from her chest at the end of the day, leaving just the fluids bag and heart monitor in place. Caroline noticed a flicker in Kara's eyes after that, one that warned against approaching her lest she flee again, wearing nothing but her hospital gown if it came to that.

Caroline took the warning for what it was and instead sought to distract her from that possibility. Engaging Lieutenant Torris in conversation provided just such a distraction, as he was receptive to her queries if limited in what he could tell her. Caroline consciously limited them to their one shared interest, namely, the fallout from the Favors Trading.

Kara was going to find out just how vital a service she'd given to the fleet, whether she wished to hear it or not. If nothing else, it might give her something to think about beyond trying to run.

She opened with a simple question to the Lieutenant. "Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am?"

"Can I ask how many witnesses have come forward since the...first complaint?"

"About thirty or so." He paused. "Twenty-five of whom have successfully brought charges to record."

Caroline watched Kara out of the corner of her eye. The girl hadn't show more than a flicker of interest. "What about the ones who couldn't bring charges?

"They're on-record and safely under observation."

"How many more complaints are pending?"

"At least another twenty."

"Been on a lot of these interviews, Lieutenant?"

Torris nodded, apparently having noticing Caroline's intention. "About half, ma'am."

"Why would you need to be there? I'm rather curious."

The Lieutenant straightened in his seat and stated, "I'm an accredited counselor as well as a physician, Mrs. Adama. Several interviewees require some -- gentle handling."

"Oh? I trust that doesn't include, say, putting words in their mouths?"

"Hardly."

Kara seemingly still refused to be engaged, her attention held entirely by the cup of rice pudding she was tucking into.

"I only ask because some of the Major's questions seemed --"

"I've worked with Major Lyceus for the last eight yarens, ma'am. He guards the cases he works rather jealously."

"Meaning what?"

"There have been occasions that have required we override the prerogatives of other offices. It has cost time in the past, something the Major prefers avoiding when possible."

"I see." Caroline didn't, actually. It had been her impression, from speaking with Nagala and others, that the cases were proceeding apace and without hindrance. The Lieutenant was suggesting there were aspects to this sad business she hadn't been privy to. A worrisome prospect, especially when she remembered there was a Marine NCO standing guard outside. She very nearly asked how many witnesses had been lost in all this, but quickly bit the question back.

Questions like _that_ weren't something that needed to be heard right then. Caroline doubted it was something she could have stood hearing anyway; gods alone knew how Kara would take it. No, _that_ possibility didn't bear thinking about.

So instead, she went with a different line questioning. "Have you been privy to the resolution of the various complaints?"

"Several of them, yes."

"Positive outcomes, I trust."

"Only if you count multiple indictments being passed out on the same names, several times over, with significant compensation packages being granted."

"I had heard the payouts were getting...extensive."

"I believe the last figure quoted was twelve-point-seven million, at least thus far." Torris gave a disinterested shrug. "It's expected to climb further."

"No-one undeserving has suffered from it, have they?" Caroline wanted -- needed -- some reassurance there. "Professionally, I mean."

"No, ma'am. Some of those we've interviewed have taken retirement as an alternative."

"Not too many, I hope."

"Enough to where the Academy is looking at increasing the size of Officer Candidate classes."

"So there's a need for already qualified pilots?"

"Rather a bit, ma'am." He paused apparently for effect. "There's a preference for ones showing initiative, flexibility, and strength of character."

"The sort who _isn't _afraid of smacking a superior ass when they try taking liberties?"

"That very sort, yes."

Caroline wondered if this little exchange was getting through to its intended audience. Stealing a glance across the room, she was relieved to see it had as Kara was now watching them with half-closed eyes. Caroline resisted the urge to address her directly, keeping her voice even and eyes on the Lieutenant. "What about the Fleet Academy? I believe this -- ugliness didn't reach there."

"It didn't, thank the gods. The, um, network behind it all were smart enough to keep their, um, recruitment -- acquisitions -- to the reservist corps."

"Where a lot of _good_ officers and pilots ended up because of this people, am I right?"

The Lieutenant nodded sagely. "Yes, they did. There's been quite a turnover in active personnel as a result."

"Hmm. I heard they were running a little short on flight instructors at the Academy."

"I've heard the same, ma'am."

The discussion more of less tapered off after that. Caroline really didn't want to press any further anyway; what she'd heard was enough. She studied the walls around them for a few beats before looking towards Kara herself, only to find the girl had gone back to studying her dinner tray. There was however, a subtle shift in the way she sat now, more upright and alert than before. Despite being quite relieved at seeing this change in her, Caroline wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

She decided to take it as a good sign, even as she recalled how experience had shown that any such changes with Kara Thrace invariably proved a mixed blessing.

* * *

Kara slept for a stretch after that, which effectively removed any reason Caroline and Torris had to speak. They instead sat in their individual chairs, occasionally looking over at their shared charge, but otherwise keeping their respective counsels to themselves. Torris spoke only once, quietly excusing himself and leaving for a few hours himself.

Caroline had expected she'd be alone with Kara for a bit, and so had bought some reading material as well the necessities. Despite never completing a formal degree, Caroline had absorbed enough about her family's business that she could read _Engineering and Design Quarterly _without getting lost in the jargon. The only other publication she would read regularly was _Country Life & Style_, and even then, it was solely for the pictorials. She had been working for the better part of four yarens to get her own modest domicile pictured there, mainly as a precursor to putting it up on the market and being rid of it, without any success so far.

That monen's issue of _Country_ featured restored farmsteads on Aerilon, all of them deliberately quaint and stereotypical. Caroline had little doubt each had originally looked nothing like the restored state, which was rather a shame as she'd come to appreciate the simple lines and practical nature of the architecture on the farmer colony. Certainly, it made for a nice counterpoint to the urban clutter of Caprica and Picon.

She filled a few hours visually dissecting those pictorials, mind alight with possibilities for her own house. Distant as she was from her immediate family these days, Caroline still felt a need for some small measure of approval of her life these days, if only so she could rub Mumma, Dyrk, and Lorran's collective noses in it. She found herself frequently imagining ways to integrate the furnishings and arrangements she saw into Lee's prefab house. It would require adding a few rooms, but the possibilities were definitely there...

This wasn't to say Caroline had completely forgotten the true reason she was sitting in that hospital room. She periodically looked up from her reading to ensure Kara was present in body if not consciousness, relieved each time that it was so.

Caroline remained sitting and continued paging through her magazines, all but _willing _Kara to make the first move this time.

This, ultimately, is exactly what Kara did. "Caroline?" she called out in a weak whisper.

"Hm?" was her immediate, calculated, as-casual-as-humanly possible reply.

Kara paused at this, evidently debating which of the many obvious questions she should ask first. She shortly decided on something she must have felt was safe. "Was he tellin' the truth?"

"Hm?"

"The -- the other guy --"

"Who? Lieutenant Torris?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, it was all true."

"Ngh --" Kara grunted as she shifted her legs and hips, seeking some temporary comfort. Caroline managed to hold herself in place, but only with considerable effort.

Kara next asked "Wha -- what's gonna happen next?"

"What do you want to happen next, Kara?"

"I -- will they really --"

"Hm?" Caroline had to grit her teeth against answering directly. She was determined now to move only when invited, and to provide only what requested. Experience had made it clear Kara Thrace would learn her lessons only when she was ready to receive them; anything offered her before that point would be ignored, or worse, be completely misunderstood.

That didn't mean she would provide a few prompts however. "Will who do what, Kara?"

Kara struggled another moment before forcing out "Will the fleet, you know, let me back in?"

"Well, Major Lyceus did say your rank had been restored." Caroline gave her a short look. "I'd say it's more a matter of getting you back into shape and surviving the Physical." It was, on reflection, a rather silly thing to say if what Lieutenant Torris had stated was accurate. The Fleet would probably take her back, as is, that very day so long as Doctor Solon signed off on it, and from there have her back in the cockpit before monen's turn.

Kara, however, was in no frame of mind to hear that. Nor was Caroline about to allow it if it remained within her power to protect her daughter from that self-destructive streak of hers; the one Caroline herself had worked so diligently to overlook, even as she took advantage of it to scandalize her relations. That was another secret shame she would do penance for, but later.

Caroline noted that Kara had gone silent again, and was now looking at the ring on her finger, studying it as attentively as an Oracle would their runestones. She unconsciously braced herself for -- whatever might come next. She had no idea what Kara might do or say at that point, and so readied herself for the worst conceivable reaction --

She might as well not have bothered, Kara's next words being so far beyond the pale Caroline was sure her heartbeat was left permanently irregular afterwards.

"Can you call a priest from the Reform Temple here? I'd like -- need to know what kind of marriage vows they'll accept."

Caroline managed to croak "Is that what _you_ want, Kara?"

A defeated-sounding sigh followed this and it was all Caroline could do not to march over and slap the girl upside her head. It was either that or grab onto her again and possibly never let her go. "I want my baby to be alive and Lee to love me -- like that's going to happen, right?" She shifted in the bed again, as if she were trying to curl inward into herself. "'Least I can do is give Lee -- give him, you know, _something_ to come home to at night."

A peculiar numbness gripped Caroline at hearing those words, particularly Kara's choice of words. It was not unlike the feeling when she'd learned her youngest brother Zachariah had been aboard the _Eos_ when it down during the war, or that time Bill's freighter had been reportedly blown up on a run between Gemenon and Scorpia. It was actually closer to the chilled shock that hit when the doctors detailed how her body had rejected her unborn child, speaking in clinical jargon that didn't take the sting out of that small tragedy.

Those instances paled to insignificance compared to the scene of emotional desolation lying across the room from her at that very moment. Caroline found it surprisingly easy to remain sitting there; in truth, her muscles were frozen as solid as the glacier wall in the North Seas, so movement of any sort was simply out of the question. Her breathing was equally stopped up, at least until it restarted on pure instinct.

At some point, her muscles unlocked themselves, allowing Caroline to stand and maneuver her way over to Kara's bedside. She was fairly sure she managed without swaying too much, but couldn't be positive, as her internal balance was still seriously askew. Reaching out, she touched Kara's hand lightly as she dared, barely brushing it with fingertips. It was as much contact as she dared allow herself; anything more and there was every chance she'd do the girl injury without meaning to.

"Kara?" a voice that sounded like her own said from somewhere outside of herself. The girl herself didn't immediately respond. "Kara? I'll call a priest, but not here."

This got Kara's attention. "Huh?"

"We'll talk to a priest, but not here and not now." Caroline shook her head, mind and voice slowly coming back into alignment. It left her more than mildly dizzy.

Kara herself seemed to be fighting for mental traction as well, her response limited to another "Huh?"

Caroline paused, struggling to remember what she'd been intending to say but a moment earlier. "Um, I'll -- I'll call a priest to speak to you -- to us -- but once we're all home."

"Oh." Hera and Rhea shield her from the raw disappointment in Kara's voice. Caroline wondered what was going through her head, but quickly shook that away. She was clearly failing to explain herself clearly, so she took a rhetorical step backwards.

"I've spoken with Doctor Solon," she explained patiently, speaking slowly as if to a recalcitrant child. "You will be discharged tomorrow. You will be staying with me while Lee gets your house ready. We will speak to a priest there, at _home_." Caroline put as much emphasis as she dared on the last word. Kara blinked at her several times, clearly processing the words, although whether she actually understood them was the open question.

Kara chewed her lip, and then asked quietly, "Can we go back to my place?"

"Is there something there you need?"

"Um -- I saved some of my drawings -- from before --"

"Lee has them. He found them right before he found you."

"Oh. There's also my music collection -- it was on a memory chip."

"Was it with the, um, pictures?"

Kara thought for a moment then nodded. "Yeah."

Caroline nodded in return. "Then Lee has it as well. I'm sure he'll take good care of it."

"Oh. My clothes --"

"We'll get you fresh ones once you're out of here."

"Ngh. Hate shopping," Kara complained, somewhat melodramatically. Caroline was beginning to suspect the wheels were turning in Kara's head toward running again, and was smart enough to know it wouldn't happen as long as Lee or herself had her in visual sight. Doubtless, she was already thinking of ways to slip out of a fitting room or store somewhere.

"We'll order on-line," Caroline stated, unwilling to allow such an eventuality. "I know plenty of places that will deliver."

"I'll bet." Now Kara was going for petulance, which didn't surprise or phase Caroline in the slightest. Zak hadn't entirely grown out of it himself, and Lee? Well, he'd become been _the_ walking embodiment of the bitter, serial contrarian since -- well --

Rather than answer Kara in kind, Caroline simply pursed her lips and said, "You're not going back to that crap hole Lee found you in. Not now, not ever." With that, she marched back to her chair and sat back down, flicking open the issue of _Country Life & Style_ she'd bought. She'd let her girl stew and uselessly plot on her own for awhile as there were more productive uses for the next few hours than feeding Kara Thrace's badly skewed outlook on the world.

For example, there was deciding what furniture and in which style to stock her children's house with once Lee had it ready for human habitation; _that_ was sure to demand her attention for awhile.

* * *

The rest of that day went without further words exchanged between them, something Caroline found a tad dismaying but not wholly unexpected. Lieutenant Torris returned at some point, as did Major Lyceus, both carrying their own reading materials and sitting quiet as you please. This allowed Caroline to slip out for another shower and change of clothes, as well as a hasty meal in the cafeteria. There was a new Marine guard outside when she returned, which gave Caroline pause. Coincidentally Major Lyceus was exiting Kara's room at that moment, allowing him to introduce her to Sergeant Harridan.

The Major himself had been recalled to Picon Fleet HQ, and explained he could be reached there for the time being. Caroline told him of her plans for Kara to stay with her after her discharge, and gave the promise to call him once she was settled.

Kara alternately napped, ate and stewed through it all. She would periodically get up and relieve herself, eschewing assistance from anyone, but otherwise was content to emulate a scowling statue. Caroline took this in stride, cataloguing her little sighs, fidgets, and expressions for future reference. She needed that familiarity if Kara was going to be staying with her, if only so she could keep the bile spitting to a minimum when Lee was in the vicinity.

Caroline caught a few hours of sleep herself. It wasn't much but it served; her somewhat irrational fear that Kara would find a way to slip away kept her from resting too long or too deeply anyway. She wondered while brushing her teeth if Lieutenant Torris had managed to sleep at all; he certainly didn't look tired, or as if he'd spent the entire night awake and sitting in a marginally comfortable hospital room chair, paging through a medical journal for that matter. Even her ever-professional-looking eldest son didn't quite match up, which was strangely reassuring.

Ultimately, Caroline just shrugged it off as one of life's little mysteries and marshaled herself for what she was sure would prove a stressful day.

It didn't begin that way, of course. Kara was still asleep as the sun rose, filling the room with natural light and seemingly ringing her with a soft halo. Even worn and battered as she was, the girl retained a hard-edged beauty all her own. At moments like this Caroline truly wished she shared her daughter's artistic talent, so she could preserve the moment.

Kara awoke quietly, just as Nurse Gorgo was bringing in her breakfast. "Good morning, Karissa," the nurse greeted her.

"Name's not Karissa, harpy," Kara rejoined, any malice to the words long-since drained by days of repetition.

"As you wish. Ready for the day."

"Does it matter?" Kara replied wearily. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Not much longer." This news did make Kara perk up slightly, at least until she glanced across the room and noted Caroline was still present. She promptly deflated and settled back as Gorgo repositioned her bed to allow her to sit upright, looking nowhere in particular -- save in Caroline's general direction. Even as she ate, Kara would glance here and there, as if on the lookout for new enemies.

Caroline remained calm as she watched Kara eat and _not _look her way, mind in not a little turmoil as she tried to trace back what had spooked Kara so badly. If indeed she was spooked as she seemed; it could just be another round of petulance playing out. Caroline wasn't entirely sure there and didn't dwell on it. As long as Kara was eating, she couldn't give in to her instinct to flee to the hills.

Doctor Solon came in an hour later, while Kara was in the shower and Lieutenant Torris was outside on his personal wireless. Caroline stood and greeted him with easy familiarity. "Are we ready, Doctor?" she asked.

"A couple checks and she should be ready to go," the physician nodded. Kara returned, carrying her fluid bag in one hand and holding the back of her gown closed with the other. She glanced between the pair of them, maneuvering between them while radiating a fair amount of distaste, and then hopping back up onto her bed.

Kara however made no move to put the bag on the overhanging pole it normally hung from. She simply stared at the floor and asked, "Can we finish up, please? I want to get out of here." Her voice sounded hollow and unenthusiastic in the extreme. Caroline wondered again if this was all genuine or just an act of hers to throw them off-guard, only to shake her own head at the patent absurdity of that thought.

Doctor Solon took her temperature, blood pressure and heart rate, making approving noises all the while and writing notations on his clipboard. At length he nodded and declared, "You're good to go, Karissa --"

"Kara," she corrected irritably.

"Kara. Fine. You can go home with your mother here --"

"Mother-in-law," she corrected quietly.

"Mother-in-law. Fine. You seem to have healed _remarkably_ well, but I want you back in here for x-rays and follow-up in seven days." He looked towards Caroline. "You'll see to that, yes?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll call downstairs and have the discharge paperwork ready for you." With that, he nodded over to Nurse Gorgo and left, who in turn gave Kara a squeeze on the shoulder began disconnecting the bag.

Caroline meanwhile busied herself with pulling out the clothes she purchased, happy to be able to do somethingat last, even while she prayed for divine inspiration for what her next move should be.

All that came to mind was hiring a shuttle to take them to her house and hope to Olympus Lee got the bedroom ready. Not a bad plan, considering she had nothing else to go on.

_TBC..._


	20. Points of Ingress

_Part 20: Points of Ingress._

Kara insisted on dressing herself, unassisted, in the WC. Caroline was amenable and Nurse Gorgo had already left. Left alone for the first time since she had awakened from her beating, she took the opportunity to examine the damage. Well, what was left of it anyway; the bruises had pretty much faded, likewise the pattern of the gauze they'd wrapped her chest with, so on the outside she looked no worse than before.

Inside, well, that was a completely different story. Forgetting how frakked her head was at that moment, what with Caroline killing her with kindness and Lee reportedly picking out drapes for their house, there was still a dull ache that had taken up residence in her chest and diaphragm. In addition, her hips were smarting either from enforced inactivity, some still-healing damage, or both. _Pain is good thing,_ she told herself. _Lets you know you're alive. Momma was right about that._

There was a soft knock at the door and Caroline's voice drifted through the wood. "Kara? Are you alright?"

"Sure," she called back, immediately wincing as her lungs and throat burned. Oh, she was definitely alive. Using the pain as a goad, Kara quickly pulled on the underwear and tracksuit Caroline had provided. She made a point of pulling the tags off and pocketing them for later inspection; she promised herself to reimburse Caroline for this, even if she had no idea how she'd repay that or the bill the hospital was sure to hit her with for this little vacation.

At least they were a comfortable fit. Caroline was nice like that, which only screwed Kara's head even more. She zipped up the hooded sweatshirt and leaned down with difficulty to adjust the open-toe sandals. Not her usual footwear, but not a bad fit either.

Those chores done, Kara gave herself another once-over in the mirror. She needed a shower to be sure, but beyond that and a couple of lost pounds, you wouldn't know she'd been close to boarding Charon's barge just six days earlier.

She half-wished the frakkers - whoever they were - had actually finished the job, because _now_ she had to go and face something even scarier than Hades' judgment. Her hand was shaking when she turned the doorknob and exited the WC. Caroline, of course, was standing there, calm and collected as you please, a small duffel on her shoulder and a smile on her lips. Kara found herself returning it, but let her eyes drift to the floor as she was led out of the room and toward the elevators.

Strangely enough, the thought of their parting ways didn't actually enter her head, any more than it did to take exception to how Caroline refused to allow her to sign anything beyond the general discharge form. Sure, she was still hurting, but surely her head wasn't so damaged that she couldn't hold a pen. Why the frak wasn't she pitching a fit and demanding to read the fine print like she used to?

Well, there was the fact she was still bone-tired and Caroline had promised the loan of a bed. It had to be a heck of a lot more comfortable than the cot back in her -- frak; she _still_ needed to get back to her apartment. Oh sure, Caroline had said she didn't need to go back there; but Kara put it at a maximum of three days before she was tossed out of the Adama household. Once that happened, she would need somewhere to crash and burn out, right?

It was bad enough that she barely beat an eyelash when the nice reception clerk addressed _her_ as "Mrs. Adama." Gods but she was sick and tired of _being_ sick and tired. Sadly, her energy was so low that putting up a fight with Caroline about their immediate destination wasn't really possible. Kara could do nothing but stand there, leaning against Caroline's rock-steady form while the older woman maneuvered them to an intercity transit terminal.

By rights, she should have felt thoroughly humiliated at needing to literally lean on anyone just to stay upright. As it was, she could only barely keep her eyes open. Said eyes closed almost the very second they sat down in the overland mag-rail car Caroline led them into. She had no idea how Caroline managed to move her dead weight in the first place, never mind so easily and without the slightest complaint. That would change soon enough.

Kara for once decided against fighting the world at large, never mind the gentle sway and magnetic hum of the train car was so frakking soothing to her nerves, she couldn't help but drift off with her head nestled securely on Caroline's shoulder.

No surprises then how her dreams were equally secure.

* * *

_The first clue she was dreaming was Kara finding herself in Early-Era flight gear: a tan body suit with padding around the chest and shoulders, leather jacket, and boots that reached up her knees. In her right hand was a helmet, one with the familiar wing of the phoenix integrated into its smooth surface, and a gun belt with two holsters around her hips. _

_That was weird enough, and her surroundings weren't much better. She was standing beneath a glass skylight shaped in a pentagon, one supported by five great arches that seemed to dwarf even the massive columns of the Temple of Artemis in Teegarden. Storm clouds, making the marble of the floor and walls shimmer and shine, were fast obscuring the sunlight filtering down from overhead. Simple torches hung from the walls, their smokeless flames granting but a little additional light and still less illumination._

_There were no statues, murals or tapestries, or anything that might identify this place to her. Yet Kara stood there, calm and wholly at peace, eyes turned upwards towards the skylight. There was a flash of lightning and the gentle sound of the sky's tears drumming on the glass._

_Why did this place -- if it was an actual place in the waking world -- why did it seem so familiar to her? _

"_What do you hear, Starbuck?" someone familiar and pleasant asked from directly behind her. Kara surprised herself by not spinning in panic. She didn't move at all._

"_Nothing but the rain," was her answer, eyes closing as the phantom tears from the sky intermingled with her own._

_Another streak of lightning lit the sky – Hermes perhaps on some errand, or Zeus cavorting above the clouds – followed by a rumble of thunder whose vibrations shook both the temple and herself._

"_Kara?"_

_Something else was shaking her now --_

* * *

"Kara?" Caroline's insistent voice pulled her back, away from -- wherever that place was. "Wake up, dear. We're here."

Kara roused slower than she normally might, images and memory of the dream fading fast. She quickly glanced down at herself, frowning in puzzlement at her simple clothes, feeling as if she should be wearing -- something else entirely. But what?

"Sorry," she slurred, tongue still heavy.

"It's alright. We'll be home very shortly. Can you stand?"

"Um, sure." Kara frowned and managed to do so with a moderate exercise of will. She rubbed her eyes, worried at how everything seemed at once too close and far removed to be seen clearly. Caroline waited patiently for her to get her bearings again, soon taking a hand in hers.

"Come on. Let's get you back to bed."

Kara had to blink several times as she followed Caroline out of the train car, eyes adjusting slowly to the late afternoon brightness. She was careful to keep hold of Caroline's hand as they walked, as she was honestly worried about getting herself lost there. The crowd of commuters and travelers wasn't nearly as thick as it might normally be, but neither was it sparse and easy to navigate. Kara was actually grateful her pockets were empty as there were no doubt a pickpocket or five around; she's once lost a four day's pay to some kid with light fingers and really wasn't anxious for a repeat.

Caroline kept her close and led them confidently through the crowd to the taxi stand, where she lost no time bundling them into another vehicle. Kara felt herself start to drift off again, except their driver appeared to have mastered the fine art of making sharp turns for no discernible reason; the unexpected and unpredictable jolts along the horizontal kept the adrenaline flowing, even if it wreaked havoc with her sense of time and place.

She felt more than a little green when the cab finally stopped and Caroline half-pulled her out. The sight of the Adama's barn of a house left her feeling worse. It must have shown as Caroline tightened her hold on her shoulders and virtually shoved her up the brick path to the front door, which was nearly kicked off its hinges as she brought her inside.

"Lee? Lee! Get down here us and help already!" Caroline bellowed this right beside her ear, making Kara flinch hard and twist around. No apologies were forthcoming for this; Caroline Adama was in full mother-henma mode and wasn't going to be gentle about things anymore.

Lee came stumbling down the stairs a few moments later, looking little better than Kara felt. In her racing mind, Kara _knew_ that _she_ had done this to him, that _she_ was the reason he looked so ill and would likely _die_ in the next minute. His wrinkled uniform, mussed up hair and bloodshot eyes were like the gods judgment against her, shattering what is left of her composure and leaving her shaking to pieces right there in Caroline's foyer.

Too much. It had been too frakking much and all of it catching up to her in one overwhelming moment.

His arms first come around her, easily lifting her. Gods but she missed those arms.

There were words exchanged between mother and son, urgent ones it sounded like although Kara couldn't make them out over the incoherent chorus in her head. She in fact barely felt herself being carried up the stairs and into a bedroom somewhere, becoming conscious of this only when she was settled onto a soft-yet-firm mattress. A familiar hand brushed through her hair, then pulled away to draw a blanket over her.

Kara responded with a whimper that was equal parts pleading and naked terror, blindly reaching out and grabbing that same hand. She pulled with all her strength, feeling an equally familiar body slide close to hers, wrapping an arm around her middle and clinging to it with both hands as if it were an anchor in a storm-tossed sea. Her head began to go light from all the hyperventilating she was doing.

She could feel Lee nose burrowing into her hair, inhaling deeply. "Shhh," he soothed into her neck, her body stilling at his voice. "S'okay now. Sleep now."

Her eyes closed again, as she clung to the man she'd surely destroyed by just _existing_, and was lost.

* * *

_That turmoil did not follow her into the dream, where Kara found herself once again in Early-Era pilot's kit. Except now, she wasn't in the great temple, listening to the rain overhead. Now she was out in a desert, looking out at towering pyramids across a metropolis made of brick and stone. _

_The air was cooling with the setting of the sun, the avenues and alleyways between the buildings beneath her aglow with lamps or torches. There was no movement anywhere, which somehow seemed appropriate._

_Kara turned and entered the building on whose balcony she'd found herself. Torches filled the room with flickering light and which made small shadows that leapt and danced at the corners of her perception. On the floor was beautifully woven rug depicting scenes from a dozen heroic tales of myth. She marched across it to the table situated in the middle of the otherwise empty room, contemplating the items laid across it._

_There was an empty chalice cup made from hardened clay. Beside it sat a small volume, bound in leather. A flower of some sort. Finally, a simple ring of chrome._

_Kara had no idea what to make of these objects or what, if any, meaning should be imparted of them. She picked up the ring first, examining it closely in the room's diffuse light. There were indecipherable characters engraved all along it and appeared a bit larger than necessary to fit on one's finger; beyond that, there was nothing else notable to it. _

_She set the ring aside and turned to the flower, shocked to discover it was made of -- plastic? Very well molded plastic at that. It was practically a work of art that was virtually distinguishable from the real thing. She couldn't see any signature or company stamp on it anywhere however, so there was no telling who made it or how they'd managed such workmanship._

_The chalice cup was next. It was a crudely formed thing, unadorned and wholly practical in construction. Kara ran a finger along the insides of it, feeling only dry and solid surface there. For all she knew it was nothing more than a prop from a play of some kind. Certainly, it didn't look like anyone had used it in, like, ever._

_The small book was the last thing she examined. Undoing the leather ties that held it closed, Kara was surprised to see its text was written in some archaic alphabet. Dynastic Kolosti, her mind suddenly supplied after another moment's study. Surprising as this realization was, Kara was utterly floored when she heard her own voice reading from the first page. _

"_As ye shall know them by their words,  
So ye are judged by your deeds._

_If thou gives offense to the earth,  
The judgment of thee is claimed."_

_Kara could only shake her head in puzzlement, as much at her fluency as with the words themselves. This was a language as long dead as the civilization that had spoken it, lost ages before the twelve colonies had made their exodus from Kobol. How the frak was she able to read it?_

_She set the book back down and scratched her head, trying to discern some pattern -- any pattern at all -- to these artifacts. Her formal education, much of it barely remembered, offered no clues there. _

"_Maybe there isn't any," Kara ultimately muttered. "I mean, I'm dreaming all this, so who says it should make sense --" She shook her head again, a little sharper this time. "And now I'm talking to myself, out loud, in a dream. Gods, but I'm really losing it." _

_The thought came to her unbidden and like a blow to the gut; hadn't she lost enough already? _

_That thought, all the others that quickly spiraled out of it, caused Kara to go cold and numb. She hugged herself ineffectually against the onslaught that left her doubled over and gasping in a pain beyond the mere physical._

_Oh, gods! Oh, gods! Oh gods, not again! I don't want to think about it again. I don't want to remember I lost baby, Lee, and everything good. Why why why why why did I have to lose the baby? Why did the gods kill my baby? Why didn't they kill me instead? I'm not worth anything to anyone. Momma said so and Momma was right because my baby is dead! Dead! Dead! dead! I hurt I hurt I hurt! Make the pain stop! Please make the pain stop! Want the pain to stop! Want baby back and want Lee back and don't want to be afraid anymore. Want to live and love and want baby back so I can have Lee back and be happy. I can't be happy. Never be happy. Never never never never! Wrong wrong wrong wrong! It's all wrong and I hate it and hate hate hate hate it! Give me it all back! Please I'll be good. I'll be good be good be good. Don't hurt me any more please don't hurt me any more!_

"_Shhh, Kara. It's okay. It's okay."_

_Strong arms she knew so intimately encircled her, drawing her away from that dark spiral. She opened her eyes --_

* * *

-- and there was Lee, cradling her to him and rocking them both. His hand stroked her hair as his soft voice crooned to her. "It's okay. No more hurting. No more hurting."

She leaned closer against him, her own hands coming up to grasp his arms, pulling tight. But she didn't -- couldn't -- look up at him.

"Promise?" Her question/plea was barely more than a weak whisper.

"Promise," was Lee's immediate answer. She believed him right then, as if the gods themselves had pledged to her.

Kara's eyes shut again, but this time she did not dream.

* * *

The next time Kara woke, it was wholly natural and without external prompting. She felt an immediate stab of disappointment that she was waking up _alone_. Only the imprint of another body on the already very rumpled bed sheets gave any clue that she hadn't been alone all this time.

The next thing to come to mind was Lee's promise, spoken who knew how long ago. She couldn't help but wonder if he had really meant it; it was unlikely he could back it up anyway. All the same, it was a nice sentiment.

Kara sat up and stretched. She rolled her shoulders, rotated her neck, and threw aside the blanket. Only when her bare feet hit the carpeted floor did the familiar aches in her chest flare up. Thankfully, it wasn't bad enough to elicit more than a groan. Running her hand down her chest, Kara realized that _someone _had stripped her down to bra and panties. Frowning, she concentrated past the pain for any other _sensations_ pervading her body.

There was nothing however to even suggest she'd so much as been touched in -- certain places. Kara wondered if this was just Lee being noble, or an indication of how unacceptable she presently was to him. It was something to ask him later.

Seeing a fresh tracksuit on the chair nearby, Kara took the hint and pulled it on. She didn't see her sandals anywhere, which was okay because the carpet underfoot felt -- nice. Nice things were fleeting in her life and she'd reconciled to enjoy them when she could, given it was a gods-ordained truth she didn't deserve squat.

Pausing fora moment to examine her surroundings, it was a bit of a surprise to see she was in Lee's room. She recognized it from visits in the distant past. Even if she hadn't, the overburdened bookshelves and orderly wardrobe would have been a strong hint as to the occupant. Kara couldn't immediately image why he'd brought her to this room rather than dumping her sorry ass somewhere else. She didn't want -- didn't dare to read too much into it.

Her stomach growled, adding to the aforementioned aches. She decided to go see if she could bum some broth out of Caroline. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she could even get some crackers.

Heading downstairs and entering the kitchen, Kara caught sight of the lower half of someone in dress blues standing at the open refrigerator, their upper half deep inside the storage unit. Momentarily forgetting herself, Kara stalked forward with a wicked grin, bare feet fairly dancing across the hardwood floor. She reached forward and gave the narrow backside facing her a quick pinch -- jumping back in surprise when a voice that was _not_ Lee's yell out "Gah!"

Zak Adama jumped and spun around in surprise. "Frak! What the -- Kara?!"

"Oh shit," was all Kara could mutter, realizing that same second she _hadn't _zipped up the sweatshirt, and so was giving him a bit of a show. She quickly covered herself and turned away, wrestling with the zipper for several seconds. Getting it closed she risked a look over her shoulder and demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"Forty-eight hour furlough. You scared the frak out of me --"

Caroline chose that moment to reappear from the other end of the kitchen. "What's the noise? Oh, Kara. Good, you're awake now. Good, good. You must be starving."

"Um, kinda," was Kara's lame admission. Her stomach added its own two cubits, causing her to blush in embarrassment.

"So I hear. Well, lunch was about ready anyway. Zak, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Huh?" Zak grunted, still looking Kara over with a mixture of surprise and wonder.

Caroline simply clicked her tongue. "You. Somewhere else. Right now. Yes?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah." Zak cleared his throat and headed away. "Um, see you later, er, Kara." Kara gave him a small wave but couldn't bring herself to look up at him. Gods, could she possibly humiliate herself further here?

Caroline came over and hooked a finger under Kara's down turned chin, gently coaxing her eyes to meet her own. "Hungry?"

"Yeah." It was a grudging admission.

"Good. Sit over there and I'll get lunch." She nudged Kara in the direction of the breakfast nook, and then turned toward the stove where several saucepans were sitting.

Kara felt obligated to offer, "Um, can I help?"

"Yes," Caroline hummed as she uncovered one of the pans. The air was immediately filled with the rich scent of Tauron stew. "You can help by sitting down and eating what I put before you. Understand?" She gave Kara a meaningful look, one the latter was ill disposed to argue with. There was no point in adding being an ingrate to her voluminous list of sins.

Instead, she asked, "Where's Lee?"

"Hmm? Oh, he was called to the North Wing. He should be back this evening." Caroline didn't sound worried about this, which perversely only worsened Kara's anxiety. She covered it by scowling at the large bowl Caroline set before her and eating with all the gusto of the condemned their last meal.

_TBC…_

**Author's finishing rant: **_Reviews are always welcome. A couple definitions are in order:_

"Early-Era": Shorthand phrase for "Early Spacefaring Era", roughly two hundred yarens prior to this story's beginning.  
"Mother-Henma": Colonial slang for a domineering or over-attentive mother-figure, based on the behavioral patterns of Henmas (a breed of farmyard fowl on Tauron).  
"Yarens": a standard year in the Colonial calendar, based on the 380 solar-days that make a complete solar orbit of the colony of Caprica.


	21. Intel

_(Another twofer coming your way! Enjoy!)_

* * *

_Part 21: Intel_

Lee felt all fatigue leave him at the first sight of Kara crossing the threshold. _She's here, she's home,_ he thought in both relief and worry. She was so pale and looked even more fragile than when he'd found her in Sparta. Worse, she turned haunted eyes on him, then promptly pulled away from his mother and started shaking like a leaf, clearly and profoundly terrified of -- something.

He didn't hesitate, almost leaping the last few steps and pulling her to him; her shakes were so bad at that point he nearly lost his grip. Rather than relinquish his hold, he quickly scooped her knees under one arm and circled the other around her shoulders. Kara was no small weight, yet Lee found her unsettlingly easy to hold onto like that.

"What the frak happened to her?" was his immediate question.

"Take her upstairs," his mother directed, not going into superfluous detail.

"Right," Lee nodded, agreeing to the re-ordering of priorities. Kara was collapsing in his arms and she needed somewhere to lie down before her hysteria, whatever its source, totally overwhelmed them both. He took the stairs two at a time and hurried down the hall, all but sprinting into his room. With the greatest care he settled Kara onto the mattress and freed his arms from under her, his hand brushing through her tangled hair as the urge to touch her overcoming good sense. Lee gave himself a shake and, with equal speed and care, pulled off her sandals and drew the down comforter over her.

No sooner had he finished this than Kara's arm shot out and, with a strangled cry on her lips, grabbed hold of his arm. She pulled, hard enough to jerk Lee off-balance (mental as well as physical), causing him to fall forward. With no conscious directive, his hands lifted the comforter to cover both of them and his body instinctively curled around Kara's trembling frame. Kara herself did nothing further beyond wrapping his whole arm around her chest, just under the swell of her breasts, and dug her fingernails into his forearm with _both _hands.

Lee had known fear before, both in and out of the cockpit; he'd actually been in a constant state of low-level anxiety since first laying eyes on that damned portfolio in Sparta. But having Kara in _this_ state induced nothing short of outright terror. It threatened to leave him paralyzed, uncertain what to do to soothe her exploding nerves. If she fell apart, he'd be right behind her, and thus be useless to her forever.

The best he could manage was a steady murmur of, "Shhh. Shhh. Shhh." This proved effective as Kara's shaking diminished. Unable to help himself, Lee dropped his lips to her neck and added, "S'okay now. Sleep now."

No sooner had he said this than Kara relaxed completely, her hands on him still holding fast even as the rest of her went limp. It was insane how right it felt, even comfortable in the way she clung to him, even if her grip was probably drawing blood by now. Lee was under no illusions it wouldn't last once she woke up and that he'd be damned lucky if she even deigned to speak to him again. His mother had been right and his putting the ring back on Kara's finger – and it was _still_ there, thank the gods – had been too much, an unforgivable presumption on his part. Who knew what Kara would have done if he'd actually gone ahead and summoned a priest?

Lee would have laid odds on her rising from her sickbed, having had a miraculous recovery -- and promptly begin removing appendages or strangling him with her IV.

Then again, what else _could _he have done? Lee Adama had existed in an emotional void the last five years, one that Karissa Antigone Thrace had dug out and which she alone could fill. Whether she understood or accepted it, or not, was another issue entirely. Over the years and on more than one occasion, usually in his 'dark' hours when he naively tried to make sense of her disappearance, he'd promised himself she would be _made_ to understand it if their path's crossed again. He'd use his own two hands if that's what it took. It would likely have landed him in prison afterwards, but at least he'd go in a complete person and not the shell of a man he was back then.

Oh, _now _he understood her reasons for running off, at least he thought he did, and that took quite a bit of the sting out of it. It even made sense in that wholly frakked-up way that was Kara Thrace's thought processes. Chalking misfortune up to the will of the gods had always struck Lee as a bit of a dodge. Given Kara's upbringing and exactly what had happened? They were all lucky, more than any mortal could deserve, that running away was _all_ she'd done.

That thought had Lee tightening his hold on her, even as his mind played out a dozen scenarios, each uglier and bloodier than the one before. He had to bite his lip against the tears this invoked and he buried his face into her hair. Inhaling deeply, taking in her unique scent under the layers of antiseptic hospital and BO, Lee banished such things from his mind and silently reveled in her touch.

The hours passed with them lying that way. No one came to disturb them and neither of them moved in any meaningful way.

* * *

It was dark outside when Kara first roused. Lee had fallen out himself at some point, so when Kara started to jerk and moan it took him several tense seconds to remember where he was. In the weak moon's light coming through the window, he could just make out Kara twitching oddly as she wrapped her arms around herself and curling into a tight little ball.

He reached out with shaking hands and grasped her by the shoulders. "Kara? Kara? C'mon. S'okay." He kept a steady stream of what he hoped were comforting sounds, wondering if any of them were making it through to her.

She was actually crying now, tears intermingling with disjointed gasps of words he could barely make out. "Don't wan' -- gods -- wan' baby back -- Momma -- wan' Lee back -- hurt -- stop hurtin' -- nev'r stop -- don't hurt anymore -- be good promise -- I'll be good -- please don't -- hurt --"

Lee managed to remain calm and coaxed her to uncurl herself enough so he could wrap both arms around her. "Shhh, Kara. It's okay. It's okay." He even managed to rock them gently, back and forth, side to side, all the while shushing her quietly.

"It's okay," he was soon saying. "No more hurting. No more hurting."

"Promise?" Kara unexpectedly asked as some point, her voice weak and timid.

"Promise," Lee said before fully realizing it. By the time he did, a mere heartbeat later, Kara was once again fast asleep. Her grip on him was somewhat looser this time, but still strong enough to hold him in place for the moment. Not that Lee had any plans to move.

He'd take what she'd give, for as long as she was willing to give it, however much or little that proved.

* * *

Morning came, sunlight and clear skies coming with it. Lee could only groan as a shaft of light hit him full in the eye. Gently disengaging himself from Kara's now-loose hold, he climbed out of the bed and pulled the nearest curtain shut. Looking back to the bed, he noticed the comforter had slid to the floor. Picking it up, he had every intention of covering Kara again, only to pause and study her.

She certainly seemed -- calmer than before. And was that a ghost of a grin he spied on her lips? This was quite possibly the most relaxed he'd ever seen her, which lent both a radiant beauty and rare innocence to her profile. It was -- she was -- breathtaking. There was no other word for her and even _that_ felt inadequate.

Lee could have stood and stared at her until the suns went nova and their worlds ended. But she soon shifted from her side and onto her stomach with a muttered growl of "S'hot." Her face was turned away from him, prompting Lee to examine her prone form a little more critically.

Yes, it was a bit -- stuffy in the room, but surely not enough to make her feel overheated. Then again, she had been pressed up against him for the last ten or so hours. And she was _definitely_ overheated, as testified by the sweat stains on her track suit. That couldn't be comfortable for her. While he didn't really want to wake her, neither was he willing to see her remain uncomfortable if he could help it.

Or so he was telling himself as he eased her track pants off, studiously keeping his eyes on the material and _not_ what he was so knowingly uncovering in the process. Lee Adama did _not_ take advantage of vulnerable women, even if it appeared so as he oh-so-gently rolled said woman onto her back and eased the zipper of her sweatshirt down, and with equal care slid the garment off her shoulders.

Yes, it was another monumental presumption on his part, even if he was being damned careful where his eyes were the whole time. And yes, she'd likely pay him back for it when she finally woke up and worked out who was responsible for her state of undress. Lee reconciled he'd just have to take his lumps with her; to his mind, it was a fair enough exchange for knowing she was still _breathing_. Everything else she might give – from keeping his ring on her finger right down to the smallest glance that put her eyes on him – everything else was just a happy bonus.

While he certainly wouldn't take advantage, Lee couldn't quite resist giving her a quick once-over before covering her once more. Big mistake. Huge mistake_. Battlestar-sized mistake_ -- because he hadn't been -- flaccid when he woke just then. Worse, the metaphorical wood was fast -- stiffening -- and getting harder. A _lot_ harder.

Frak. Frak frak frak frak frak frak! He did not need to be in this -- _state_ -- right now! Not when Kara was so -- _fragile_ -- and lying there like -- _that_! Kara did _not_ need to see him like -- _this_!

Lee swallowed hard and moved as quietly as possible towards the door, eyes fixed straight ahead and _not_ let them -- wander -- anywhere back toward – _her_. He made it to the door, but had to stop short at finding _someone _(most likely his mother) had nicely left a fresh track suit folded on the floor in front of the door. All he could do was sigh, debating whether to risk bringing the clothes in for Kara and risk another -- look -- or leave them where they are and risk getting another -- look --

_Frak it,_ was all Lee could think. He quickly bent down and collected the clothes, then equally quickly tip-toed back into the room. Making sure to keep his eyes on the floor and _away_ from the bed, Lee set the track suit on a chair directly beside the mattress. Kara unconsciously chose that moment to roll about, causing the comforter to slip slightly and reveal some strategically-covered-yet-enticing flesh.

Lee grit his teeth hard and turned away, but not without some effort. At this point, there was no way to conceal just how -- affected – he was by her proximity. She certainly wasn't trying, wasn't even _conscious_, and look what she was doing to him. He'd have felt utterly humiliated if it weren't so frakking embarrassing.

Still, he managed to quit the room in a semi-stable manner, hopping it as quickly as he dared to the nearest bathroom. That was one of the few virtues of this house: an abundance of bathrooms. Once inside the shower room, Lee couldn't help but snarl at his reflection as he splashed water on his face. "She doesn't need this, Adama," he ground out, not sounding the slightest bit convincing.

He angrily pulled his wrinkled dress blues off, then his tanks and socks. Yup, he'd pitched a tent, one big enough for an entire troop of Colonial Scouts in the wild. Turning away from the mirror, Lee pulled his boxers off and – refusing to look _down_ – stepped into the shower stall. He violently twisted the knobs and was immediately hit with a spray that was ice cold, then steaming hot.

The groan that came from his gut had nothing to do with the water, and everything to do with applying lessons he'd learned at the Academy. Ones that weren't on the official curriculum and dealt with the speedy relieving of -- tension. He sobbed as his hand finished the task quickly and efficiently; it took no elaborate fantasy or vision to bring him to climax. Just the image of Kara under the comforter, face at peace and lips slightly parted, was enough.

It was humiliating, nerve-wrecking, and the single most intense orgasm of his life. His one consolation was that circumstances just couldn't get more embarrassing.

There was a knock on the door, followed by his mother's voice. "Lee? Is that you?"

"Yeah," he called in reply, hastily soaping his bare hands and scrubbing whatever parts of him could be reached as clean as possible.

"Okay. Kara still asleep?"

"Yeah." For good measure, he scrubbed himself twice over and hoped the scent of his release didn't carry or linger.

"Do you need a fresh uniform?"

"Yeah." This was choked out, his throat tightening as the image of _her _returned. Oh, gods, that alone was enough to get him hard again. His knees were still shaky from the first one alone and he was ready again? Normally he would have been pleased, even impressed at this burst of virility. As it was he just wanted to be able to walk out of that stall without mortifying his mother.

"I'll -- be out -- in a minute," he gasped, right hand working frantically to finish _it_.

"Take your time, Lee." This elicited another choked sound, this time a barely-audible laugh, as Lee wondered if his mother had the least idea what was happening to him. Then he thought about Kara and what she might have said -- if she would say anything at all. _Before_ all this, he knew she would have made noises to the effect of, _What a waste --_ right before going down on her knees and --

He could only barely hold in the groan that resulted, when all he really wanted to do was scream as his hips jerked and spine stiffened with his second orgasm. Agony and ecstasy twisted through him, as did a fair amount of burning shame and white-hot anger.

Tears quickly followed, only to be lost in the spray as he leaned back against the tiled wall and slid down until his bare ass hit the floor, arms folded atop his knees and head hung in secret shame.

* * *

After he'd dressed in the fresh uniform his mother helpfully left outside his door, Lee emerged from the shower, feeling marginally more human and better able to interact with the rest of humanity. His mother politely declined to comment on how, well, distracted he was. Rather she waved him towards the breakfast bar and, once he was seated, pushed a plate before him and said "Eat."

Lee didn't argue and did as he was told. Caroline simply read through the morning paper, periodically glancing his way and sipping her coffee. She waited until he'd finished before saying "Major Lyceus called last night. You're to report to his office at ten."

"At the North Wing?"

"Hmm," Caroline nodded. The ancient gear-work clock in the front room chimed eight times.

"Guess I should go, eh?"

"Hmm."

"You'll take care of --"

"Zak has furlough." She shuffled the leaves of the paper. "I'll get him to help."

"You're sure?"

Caroline didn't look up, instead taking another sip of coffee. "Get moving, Lee."

"Yes, ma'am." Lee stood and adjusted his jacket. He walked around the counter and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Welcome," Caroline nodded. "Now move. You've got a meeting."

"I'll be home as soon as I can," Lee promised.

"Just go already."

"I'm gone," Lee grinned and marched off, not a little relieved to have a legitimate excuse to keep some distance between himself and Kara.

* * *

It took the taxi a full hour and a half to maneuver traffic and reach his destination. The driver was no conversationalist (Lee seemed to have a talent for picking such), and all Lee could do was let his mind wander where it would. This was dangerous because all his thoughts ultimately came to orbit, however obliquely, around Kara.

Specifically, how he'd left Kara in his – frak, _their_ – bedroom.

Yes, he knew she was in a very fragile place -- but he so was he, as that morning had already amply demonstrated. He needed to get his head more together if he was going to ever be able to interact with her on a civilized and rational manner. That meant he couldn't give into the base instincts and impulses she brought out in him. If he did, he would simply march back to his mother's, pull her out of -- frak -- their bed, tear her clothes off and just bury himself balls-deep inside her. He'd stay there until they both died, and he'd kill anyone who tried to get between them.

_Or_ he would march back upstairs, pull out his side-arm, and turn her brilliant mind into an expressionist painting; followed _immediately_ by him doing the same to himself.

_Or _handcuff them together and swallow the key.

O_r _pull her out of their bed, punch through that well-endowed chest, and pull her out still-beating heart.

_Or _just shake her and scream at her and kiss her and punch her and hold her until she understood exactly what _he_ was feeling.

He had to keep away from her before his self-control collapsed and some combination of those actions -- in any conceivable order -- came to pass.

Worse still, his already-runaway imagination had kicked in afterburners and was envisioning new scenarios happening there; things that normally should have turned his stomach and had him calling in the Shore Patrol to drag the offending party off to the darkest hole possible. Instead it had him fidgeting and crossing his legs to hide his renewed erection. He could only pray the driver didn't notice that or how his cheeks were burning. Both fists clenched unconsciously as much at the images in his head as the emotions they invoked, all the while fighting the urge to take a swing at -- well, _anything_.

Lee Adama had never before felt so out of control, so frightened of his own person and what he was capable of. He would _not_ chance her being hurt again -- at least _not_ until she was ready and able to fight back.

After that, all bets were off.

He knew then that he needed help, and not just in physically protecting Kara from external threats. Maybe calling in a priest wouldn't be a bad idea after all. That was a double-edged sword however as it risked having Lee confessing himself so thoroughly that Kara would never come near, never mind touch him again after hearing what was in his head and heart.

Well, if it came to _that_ he would just get down on his knees and beg she put a bullet in his sick skull. Surely she'd grant him that small mercy, right?

* * *

Thankfully, their arrival cut short such musings, the taxi depositing him a block away from Central Square. Lee paid the drive and climbed out; shoving his hands into pockets to cover what was going on below the beltline. It only took one look at the Colonial Senate building and the whole of him sobered (and one part in particular deflated). Here he was, standing at the seat of the Colonial government, and all any thought of having to find a restroom he could lock himself into for awhile was gone.

Lee was enough of a professional – or a masochist, the jury still being out on that one – that he decided to test his newfound calm. Thinking about Kara in – frak – their bed, all that attended that image was a casual thought of _I hope she's warm enough._ Nothing else came to mind. Lee nodded to himself with a small grin, pleased that his emotional collapse had been halted, if only temporarily.

It would start up again the instant Kara was back in his Line-Of-Sight; he knew that and accepted that. The most he could hope for was get to through this meeting with Major Lyceus without giving the store away, or giving grounds to have him scheduled with a Counselor or some other headshrinker.

Speaking of which, Lee realized he'd have to hoof it if he wasn't going to add being late to his list of deficiencies. He took off at a brisk pace, and soon had his ultimate destination in sight.

The North Wing was actually a nondescript ten-story office building sitting, as the name suggested, directly north of the Colonial Senate building. Its existence and function was an open secret to almost everyone in the Fleet or with an interest in the judiciary, that housed the investigators and prosecutors of the fleet's Judge Advocate Division. Lee had heard of it throughout his childhood, not always cast in a positive light by his father or grandfather. He would later understand both men had their own reasons for bitterness, but by then Lee had an automatic, visceral reaction against just the mention of the Division.

Lieutenant Lee Adama, however, allowed none of this to show as he marched in through the main doors and presented himself to the reception/security desk. The female Marine in khakis gave him a professional once over as he identified himself, then followed it up with a brusque "Wait here, Lieutenant." After which she ignored him completely while she consulted a binder. Lee had walked into enough fleet facilities to know this was all SOP and the woman was likely a combat veteran, and therefore more than able take him down barehanded. Not wishing to give her any excuse to do so, Lee remained still and relaxed while the Marine did whatever procedures here dictated.

She flipped through several pages, glancing back up at him a few times as she did, before finally setting it aside and picking up a telephone receiver mounted on the desk. Lee didn't strain to hear what she said into it, but carefully noted her reactions. She again glanced up, this time more appetisingly, and then muttered further into the receiver.

Lee risked a look to his left and right, noting with a frown how it was just himself and the Marine in the lobby. While he didn't expect the place to be high-traffic, he equally hadn't expected it to be this dead either. Was there some religious observance he'd forgotten about or what?

The Marine cleared her throat, pulling Lee's attention back to her. "Special Prosecution Unit is on the sixth floor, Lieutenant." There was a soft whirl and click from under her desk, and a moment later the Marine produced a simple-looking photo ID. Lee took it, noting how his photo depicted him at that very moment. He resisted the urge to look around for the hidden cameras, knowing immediately it would be a wasted effort.

"Sixth floor," Lee confirmed.

The Marine continued, instructing "When you're in the elevator, enter the number on your ID, then the floor number. Keep the ID with you at all times and be prepared to present it upon request."

"Understood. Um, where on the sixth floor?"

"Door Beta. Don't attempt to enter any others. Understood, Sir?"

"Understood. Thanks." He gave the Marine a quick salute - which was returned - and moved past the desk to the bank of elevators gripping the card so tightly it would surely leave scars.

He entered the first doors that opened and tried not to be too surprised at finding a very modern LCD and chrome keypad set into the wall above very old fashioned push-buttons numbered "1" through "10". Shaking his head, Lee entered the number from the card in his hand, waited a beat, then pressed the "6" button. The elevator doors closed and the car itself rumbled to life a couple seconds later, slowly climbing upwards, vibrating the whole way.

The sixth floor proved to be as featureless as the building's exterior; bare walls painted unattractive earth tones, bare floor that needed to be retiled, and a set of plain wooden doors with a single brass letter nailed into each. Lee quickly searched out the one bearing a "Β" and wondered how to announce his presence. Should he knock first and wait for permission, or just breeze right in? Again the officer in him took command and went with the former.

"Enter," an unfamiliar voice immediately called through the door. Lee twisted the knob and found himself looking at room filled with several metal desks, each half-buried under papers or books, its only occupants a man in civilian clothes standing to one side and paging through a thick file and an Ensign seated nearby in dress blues but with the jacket undone and open. Both looked up from their respective work, but it was the man in tie and shirtsleeves who spoke. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Lee snapped to attention and saluted. "Lieutenant Lee Adama, reporting as ordered."

The man gave a formal salute in reply and said "At ease, Lieutenant." Lee relaxed, only to tense with the next question. "Ordered to report here by who?"

"Major Lyceus."

"_I'm_ Major Lyceus, Lieutenant," said the man, who looked nothing like the officer from the hospital. He folded his arms and added "And I've never met _you_ before."

Lee wasn't listening any longer; rather, his mind was working out how long it would take to get back to his mother's if he ran really, really fast.

_TBC…immediately!  
_


	22. Intel Continued

_Part 22: Intel (continued)_

Lee felt his every major muscle group tense in preparation for propelling him out of the room, out of the building, and several hundred kilotras across the city. He'd start moving and _not_ stop, regardless of obstacle or impediment, until he was back in the suburbs.

The man in civilian shirt and tie clearly saw his anxiety and held up both hands in what was meant to be a calming gesture. Lee was having none of it, however, and was about to spin away. In what must have been a last-ditch effort to keep him there, the man cocked his head to one side and asked "Lieutenant, are you sure you were summoned here by -- me?"

Lee fought down the urge to just run out of there and hightail it back to the house; confirmation of deception would only be helpful, and no doubt, the JAD would want to know about such things. "An officer -- someone in fleet uniform calling himself Lyceus -- called my mother's last night." He took a breath, anxiety still building but no longer threatening to choke him. "He was at the hospital for several days as well."

He started forming plans to get himself back home with all speed.

"What hospital? When?" the suit prompted.

"Taulycus Memorial, in Sparta between the fourteenth and yesterday."

The monorail was too slow. The underground didn't have a stop near the house. Likewise with the mag-train.

"And this individual identified himself as -- me?"

"As Major Lyceus, yes, Sir."

The morning commuters will have thinned out by now. Ground travel should be easier.

"Can you describe him?"

"Mid-30s, sandy hair, thin --"

He would hijack the first ground transport or atom-shuttle he could find, if need be.

"Let me guess; drummed his fingers on the table when he was interviewing you. Am I right?"

"Um." Lee had to think about that one. "Uh, yes. Yes, Sir." The man, Major Lyceus, seemed to deflate upon hearing this. His head dropped down and one hand massaged his forehead.

"Otto?" he called out suddenly. "Get out here, will you?"

Lee's eyebrows climbed when the man he'd met previously, who until that second believed was an imposter, came out from a side door. He saw Lee and bobbed his head. "Lieutenant Adama. You're early."

"Sir?" He couldn't stop looking between the two men. Their clothes aside, there was no shared features that might link the two. Faces, height, weight, hair, stance, everything about them was markedly different from the other.

His confusion must have shown as the Major wearing the shirt and tie said waved towards the new arrival and said "Lieutenant Adama, allow me to introduce Major Otto Lyceus. Lead investigator for this unit."

Lee again snapped to attention and saluted. The uniformed Major did the same, then stepped closer and extended his hand. "You're early," was his first comment.

"Yes, Sir." Lee shook his hand once, twice for the cameras, then stepped back and looked towards the _other_ Major, the one _not_ in uniform. "Um --" he started, trying to find a politic way of broaching the obvious. The subject of his confusion grinned and extended his own hand, which Lee also took.

"Major Alac Lyceus, lead prosecutor." He read Lee's next question and added, "We're first cousins, which as you can imagine causes all sorts of confusion."

"I see, Sir."

"This is Ensign Iryn," Alac introduced the remaining Officer, who gave a quick salute then buried himself once more in the stacks of paper before him.

"Otto, I take you requested the Lieutenant come here?"

"Yes."

"Then let's take this to the conference room and quit disturbing Iryn here." Otto led the three of them back into the room he'd just emerged from. Lee followed without further comment, feeling slightly dizzy from the series of bursts of speeding-up/slowing-down his nerves had gone through since waking that day. Was it really barely four hours ago?

Alac brought up the rear, closing the door behind him and promptly moved over to the coffee maker. He poured himself a cup and sat at the far end of the conference table, closest to the door. Otto had taken a seat on the other end, Lee sitting himself directly opposite him.

Being the smart passenger, Lee was willing to let the superior officers take the lead in -- whatever this was. Another interview? A formal briefing? It struck him how he had no idea what to expect, anxiety spiking once again. He could just sit there and waited for either of the Majors to speak, wishing all the while he'd brought his side-arm.

Otto opened with the obvious. "You're probably wondering why I summoned you here, Lieutenant."

"He's not the only one," Alac said coolly. Otto's eyes didn't waver from Lee.

"This concerns Lieutenant Thrace," he continued.

Alac growled, "I figured that when you requisitioned her file." Once again, Otto ignored him.

"First I need to clarify something, Lieutenant. You have had no contact with Lieutenant Thrace for the last five yarens, correct?"

"Correct," Lee nodded, scowling. "Do I need representation present?"

"This is strictly for informational exchange, Lieutenant. It's also off the record and inadmissible."

"And if that changes?"

"If it does, although I can't see how --" Otto paused and threw a look towards his cousin, who was studying the contents of his disposable cup with intense focus. "_If_ it does, we'll invoke Article 23 and keep you out of -- whatever it might be."

"Sure about that?" Lee asked, throwing a look of his own towards the other end of the table.

"Article 23 is an absolute, Lieutenant. I'll tattoo it across your forehead if I need to."

Strange as that sounded, it was equally reassuring, although Lee couldn't resist another glance his way before turning back to Otto. "Information only?" he confirmed. Otto bobbed his head. "About what exactly?"

"You've never seen her original complaint against Major Lake?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Fair point." Otto leaned down and picked up a cardboard box, setting it on the table without flourish. Lee could clearly see the name "K. Thrace" written on the side.

"That's it?"

"Her complaint, the evidence, and everything that came out of it -- directly out of it, anyway."

Lee eyed the box carefully. "And I'm supposed to -- what?"

"It might be a good idea if you read through this, so you have some idea about what we – and by extension, you – are dealing with."

"Now?" Lee's thoughts flashed back to his mother's, and who was there, and a host of terrible possibilities that might occur if he was there. Without waiting for an answer, he stood and pulled the lid off the box, peering inside. There were several sealed legal envelopes, file folders stuffed to nearly overflowing, and a few clear plastic evidence bags buried at the bottom. Lee could only stand there, trying to comprehend the sheer volume of the materials.

Being the intelligent officer facing an otherwise overwhelming situation, Lee did the sensible thing; he delayed. "Do I have the clearance for all – this?"

"You do now," Alac snorted, finishing his coffee and tossing the cup carelessly toward the nearby bin.

"We'll leave you to it, Lieutenant," Otto said, standing and cocking his head toward his cousin. It could have been a directive or a question. Lee might have wondered at the dynamic between the mis-matched pair if he'd seen it. But he didn't, because he was already pulling out folders and envelopes, laying them out on the table, sorting through them carefully.

"Okay, we'll leave you to it," Otto finished somewhat lamely, following Alac out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

This barely registered to Lee, who by then had found the hard stock file folder holding a worn envelope bearing both the address of the Special Prosecutions Unit and a postage stamp dated eleventh Metagara 2998. It took little imagination to figure out what was inside it.

Lee would later chalk up the steadiness of his hands as he drew out the much-handled forms to delayed shock of the last eight planetary days. His numbness extended to his fingers as much as his emotions. How else could he have read through Kara's detailed complaint with such calm and collect, take in each word with dry eyes and clear comprehension?

He read it, every word burning into his mind.

* * *

_Complaint of Unprofessional Conduct by Senior Officer  
Preliminary Statement_

_Statement Preamble:_

_I, _Kara Thrace_, do certify on this date, 22_-Pallasaid-2998_, the following statement is accurate and true to the best of my knowledge. I understand that deliberate distortion of, omission from, or otherwise misrepresent the facts as presented will result in criminal prosecution by the Judge Advocate Division of the Colonial Fleet._

_Body of Statement:_

_On the date of 21-Pallasaid-2998, I was summoned to the office of Major Artos Lake, Deputy Chief Flight Instructor of the Fleet Reservists Corps Flight Training Facility on Tauron, ("The Marshfields"). During the course of this meeting, Major Lake made unwelcome and uninvited sexual advances upon my person, culminating in a physical attack during which I suffered injury to my head, neck, breasts, and genitals. I defended myself during this, inflicting defensive wounds upon Major Lake's genitals. _

_The background of leading to this incident is as follows: _

_I had been assigned to The Marshfields since 17-Antioch-1997, following my graduation from the Reservists Training course on Aquaria and being commissioned as a Lieutenant Junior Grade. Upon arrival, I was assigned to the Basic Flight training course, overseen by Major Lake. I graduated on 1-Metagara-1998 and was awarded Flight Status I certification._

_I was not however permitted to graduate early, nor did I receive a formal assignment outside of The Marshfields facility. This directly contravened the provisions of Section 6.6 of the Orders of the Colonial Fleet (OoCF) dictating any pilot who has been granted Flight Status of any level be assigned to active Squadron within no more than ten days following Status certification. Instead, I was given an "interim" posting as an Assistant Instructor at the facility and assigned a variety of clerical duties at the Admin Center. _

_This state of affairs lasted through the entire monen of Metagara and Bromion. When I inquired to the Office of the Commandant about my official posting on 14-Metagara, citing the relevant Sections of the OoCF, I was directed by Adjunct Lieutenant Marca Leving to speak to Major Lake. I subsequently went directly to Major Lake's office on three separate dates: 15-Metagara, 20-Metagara and 1-Bromion. On each occasion, I requested a meeting with Major Lake and was twice scheduled for one; 22-Metagara and 2-Bromion. On both scheduled dates I was informed the Major was suddenly "unavailable" and would reschedule later. _

_On 3-Bromion, I hand-submitted a formal complaint concerning my posting addressed to the Office of the Commandant, copying Major Lake and Admiral Tomas Suri via facsimile transmittal. Within two hours of my delivery of the complaint to the Commandant's office, Major Lake contacted my desk and directed me to come to his office at 1700 Hours. This placed our meeting after my scheduled shift and the official close of business for the Administrative Offices._

_As ordered, I went to Major Lake's office, signing in at the sentry post at 1650 Hours, and waited there to be officially escorted. Major Lake called down to the sentry at 1658 and directed I meet him. I was then escorted to his office on the third floor of the Admin Center. Major Lake admitted me to his office upon my arrival and announcement at his door, dismissed the sentry. His own adjunct had been dismissed for the night. There was no one else present in the office at that hour._

_Major Lake ordered me to stand at ease and offered me a drink. He made a special point of noting he was offering Caprican Ambrosia of '80 vintage. I accepted, but limited my glass to one finger full. Major Lake accommodated, and directed I sit before his desk. Major Lake himself sat on the desk itself directly ahead of me._

_He addressed me in a casual and familiar manner, addressing me by my given name and not by rank. At no time did I invite him to do so nor did I do the same with him. When I inquired about the delay in my official posting, he stated that I was under consideration for a lateral transfer out of the Reservists Corps into Active Duty. My scores and demonstrated aptitude during flight training were, according to him, impressive enough that I had drawn the attention of senior officers (whom he did not name and whom I did not request he name) who were in the process of making a final determination as to my status._

_  
I immediately expressed my reluctance to take such a posting, stating I had personal reasons for wishing to remain in the Reservists Corps. I further expressed a desire to take a more instructional role there, as opposed to an Active Duty one. Major Lake did not press me at that time for further explanation of my reasons for this preference. He stated he would have my duties expanded to include more direct instruction of incoming trainees and dismissed me. The time was 1725 Hours._

_The following day, 4-Bromion, I was directed to report to the airfield 0800 Hours and assigned to lead four instruction classes: Basic Avionics at 0900, Basic Tactical Maneuvers (Classroom) at 1030, HUD Interpretation 1200, and Basic Avionics at 1400. At the end of the day, Major Lake approached me and asked if I had reconsidered my reluctance for lateral assignment. I stated I had not and he left without further comment._

_I continued this schedule for the next 20 planetary days, during which I did not see nor interact with Major Lake, or any other officer higher than Captain. _

_On 25-Bromion, Major Lake again approached me after my last class had been dismissed and informed me I would be teaching Basic Tactical Maneuvers (Flight) in lieu of my 1030 and 1200 Hour classes. When I inquired if my lateral posting was still under consideration, he stated (direct quote), "You have found some favor, Lieutenant." His choice of phrasing was sufficiently odd that I took note of it, but failed to request elaboration._

_From 26-Bromion to 15-Pallasaid, taught the modified schedule without interruption. Again, during this period I had neither further interaction with either Major Lake nor any other senior officers._

_On 18-Pallasaid, upon return from the two-day furlough granted by the Feast of Artemis, I was hand-delivered a note by Lieutenant Sarah Treu, Major Lake's adjunct at that time, that I was to report to Major Lake's office at 1800 Hours on 20-Pallasaid for "Review of Flight Status". _

_I called Major Lake's office at 1900 Hours on 19-Pallasaid to confirm this appointment, and was informed it was rescheduled for 1800 on 21-Pallasaid. I followed up again at the same time on 20-Pallasaid and confirmed the 21st was still scheduled._

_At 1750 Hours on 21-Pallasaid, I presented myself to the sentry on duty at the Admin Center's main entrance. At 1756, I was escorted to Major Lake's office, where the sentry was dismissed and I was directed to enter. Major Lake and I were alone in his office; his adjunct had apparently been dismissed. _

_I immediately noted that Major Lake was not appropriately dressed for an official meeting. He had removed his dress jacket and was wearing only tanks, pants and shoes. I further noted the lights were lower and that a full bottle of Gold Ambrosia was on display. I requested the Major explain himself, but he ignored the request and offered me a glass he had already poured._

_I declined the drink and again requested he explain himself. Major Lake instead poured himself a generous glass of Ambrosia, drank from it, and made an unprofessional remark concerning my appearance. I warned the Major that I was not interested in his attentions and that his behavior was not appropriate._

_Major Lake began berating me, and that I should be grateful for all the favors he had done for me. I replied I saw nothing from him I should or did feel indebted for. His next comment was strange enough I took note of it._

"_Favors cost, Kara. It's your time to pay for yours."_

_At no time did I grant Major Lake leave to address me by my given name. He had advanced close enough by then I noted there was a noticeable smell of alcohol on his breath. I stated a final time that his behavior was unacceptable to me and I turned to leave the office._

_When my back was turned, Major Lake grabbed me in a headlock, rendering me momentarily unconscious. I came to shortly afterwards, by which time I found myself laid out on the floor of the office with Major Lake atop me. He had removed my uniform jacket and was clawing at my tanks, scratching my breasts in the process. I successfully pushed him off me by kneeing him in the groin and tried to flee the room. The Major again tackled me, taking my head in both hands and shoving it on the floor. I was left momentarily stunned by this attack, and was unable to block him from kneeing me in my groin, hard enough that I was left bruised._

_Major Lake continued pull at the remainder of my uniform, successfully pulling down my trousers, and then opened his own trousers. He had a full erection at that time and tried to force me to perform oral sex, pulling my head forward by my hair. I attempted to resist, at which point he hit me again, this time with considerable force to the face. I was left stunned enough that Major Lake forced his penis into my mouth. _

_I gagged badly when this happened; my ability to breathe was interrupted and caused me to panic. I instinctively bit down on his penis, doing so with sufficient force that I broke the skin and caused some bleeding. The Major prematurely ejaculated into my mouth that same moment. I spat out the blood and ejaculate, some of which landed on my thighs and panties. _

_Major Lake had fallen back off me as result. I took the opportunity to again kick him in the genital area, then pulled my uniform back together as much as possible, then fled the room and building. The sentry at the front entrance was missing when I passed his station._

_I ran across the facility to Hangers Six, where I hid for approximately two hours. When I had calmed down where I could act coherently, I returned to my quarters and remained there for the next 24 hours; I claimed a Sick Day so to avoid any external contact. _

_It was during this time that I took the photos of my injuries I have included with this Complaint. I also put the panties I had been wearing during the attack in a plastic bag, which I likewise included._

_Based upon these events, I demand the Judge Advocate Division bring charges against Major Lake. I submit for the record that I am prepared to testify against Major Lake to the truth of this statement._

_Sworn and Signed on _22-Pallasaid-2998_ by_

Kara Thrace, Lieutenant Junior Grade  
Fleet ID #784229001 .

_Included: 10x physical items -  
9x photographs (4x4 measure)  
1x plastic bag (taped shut) containing one pair of female panties (size M)_

* * *

Lee re-read the Complaint twice, and then turned to the memorandum with JAD letterhead stapled to its back:

* * *

_From: Maj. O. Lyceus_

_To: Maj. A Lyceus_

_Interview with Lake went clean; he is still walking funny. He's scared of something, and it's not Thrace. Vicennte agrees. _

_Thrace's court martial was all bullroar. Lake is willing to talk anyway. I did not mention the phone calls we are getting now. He really, really wants to talk!_

_Can we offer him a deal? There is something here. Advise how far I can take this._

* * *

On the same sheet, beneath the typed text, was a handwritten note.

* * *

_NO DEALS! He gets 5 terms, minimum! Promise him somewhere under glass, but no deals! -- Waynes_

* * *

_Waynes_ must have been Admiral Kennet Waynes, the ranking officer of the JAD. How he had gotten into this, Lee had no clue.

For a while, all Lee could do was sit and absorb -- everything. He couldn't move, he could barely even breathe. All conscious thought was taken up with wrestling with the words on the pages before him.

It took longer still to work up the nerve to find the photographs referenced. He didn't question the desire to find them, simply whether or not he could ever summon the will to do so. His arms felt too -- weak -- to do nothing more than remain still.

At some point, his hand reached back into the box and drew out the evidence bag that, judging strictly by touch, contained the photos. Lee couldn't bring himself to actually _look_ at them initially; he kept his eyes closed and emptied the nine squares of film into his hand, then spread them on the table before him.

With a deep breath, Lee forced his eyes open and turned them downwards. Rather ironically, he found he'd put all nine _face down_ on the table, as if it were some slick game on the streets. Before he could argue himself out of confronting what he feared, never mind talk himself out of the room entirely, Lee reached down and flipped of the nine photos over in quick succession.

True to her statement, Kara had indeed recorded the injuries she had suffered:

A cheek bearing an ugly yellow-green bruise.

Raw abrasions all around her neck.

Five scratches on her left breast.

Three welts on her right breast.

A close up of the scratches on left breast, one clearly deep enough to have scabbed over.

A close up of her neck, the abrasions clearly worse than at first glance.

A shot of the back of her head, one hand holding her hair aside to show the damage to her scalp.

A shot of her pubic triangle, her nether hairs vivid against the darkened, damaged skin beneath them.

Finally, a full-body shot, taken through a mirror and displaying the damage in composite. Lee lingered over this one the longest, unable to pull away from the sight of that one image --

What held Lee's eyes were Kara's own: they were flat, emotionless. Empty.

That _one_ part of that _one_ image. That _one_ part that made all the difference --

If the eyes really the gateway to the soul -- what did _those _eyes lead to?

Did they_ lead _-- anywhere anymore?

* * *

Lee was still staring at that photo when there was a knock at the door. He didn't look up when Major Alac Lyceus entered. "Closing time, Lieutenant," he said with some forced cheer.

Lee didn't immediately stir, eyes still fixed downwards. He continued to stare even when Lyceus plucked the photo from his hand. "Lieutenant?" Lyceus tried again.

"S -- Sir?" Lee winced as his voice slurred. It hurt to talk. It hurt to think.

"Its 1900 hours, Adama. You've been in here nine hours nonstop."

"F -- fr -- frak."

The Major seemed almost amused at the sentiment. He covered whatever else he might have felt by reassembling the "Complaint" file and putting it back into the box, and then placed all the other files and envelopes atop it. There was a symbolism there that Lee could not quite grasp. It still hurt to think too much. "I -- I haven't read those --"

"They'll wait. You need to get home."

"I -- home -- yeah." Lee shook his head. Even that simple act -- hurt. Everything -- hurt.

He let Lyceus lead him out of the room and out of the office. He didn't protest when the Major led him to his car and drove them out of the city.

He hurt less by the time they reached his mother's. At least, enough so he could leave the car under his own power. And he could even acknowledge Major Lyceus' directive to return to the North Wing the next day at 1200 Hours.

That ended the moment he was past the front door, in time to see Kara halfway up the stairway, spinning to look at him. Pale green eyes met his.

And all the hurt -- all _her_ pain -- hit him all over again, leaving him a smear on the floor.

_TBC...soon._

* * *

_Please review. I'm not above begging here!_


	23. Encroachment at Invitation

_Part 23: Encroachment at Invitation_

Kara worked her way through a second bowl, eating slowly, as Caroline hummed off and on while attending to the many small chores of the kitchen. Kara couldn't quite bring herself to ask further questions during this time, even to ask for something to drink. She felt enough of an interloper as it was. Caroline, however, had mastered the art of hovering-without-actually-hovering, anticipating her needs as if she were an Oracle, so she brought Kara drink and bread without prompting.

It was nearly enough to have Kara in tears. She hated this, hated _all_ of this -- and hated most of all that she couldn't even define what all of "this" even was.

Caroline was being positively imponderable the way she was treating her. Kara _knew_ that by all rights she should have been tossed out on her ear the second she'd shown she was awake. Instead, she was being ordered to sit and eat food that tasted like it had been catered from a high-end kitchen. To distract herself from silly notions, Kara tried to identify the various ingredients by taste. The problem there was her mouth was positively awash in delicious sensations and she was having trouble distinguishing anything there. Being the greedy and needy thing she was, Kara kept her mouth so full there was no chance to offer even a simple and sincere "Thank you" to her temporary hostess.

Then there was Lee's absence. She vaguely remembered waking a couple times the previous night, with Lee's arms around her. He wasn't there when she woke up, not that she blamed him. Caroline's claim that he'd been called away by the JAD, while likely true, didn't soften her stone-dead certainty she'd said or did something to drive him away. She would have to apologize somehow for whatever it was, provided she could first get whatever it out of him first; it would give her an idea at least for what he'd demand in return and so could prepare herself accordingly. It wasn't as if her ass wasn't already his to do with as he pleased.

Oh, and Zak. Mustn't forget how she'd just proven what a brilliant piece of work she was to the younger Adama. If Zak was as verbose as she remembered, everybody and their brother (and first, second, and third cousins for that matter) would hear about how she'd goosed him. He had probably noticed she was wearing Lee's ring again, which doubtless would be woven into the story somehow, and her loose character would be established once and for all. Kara had long ago stopped caring what the rest of the worlds thought of her – knowing it would always be in the negative – but she'd become a little more attuned to how her presence could impact on others. She wondered how much Caroline would have to suffer from her society friends for letting her stay there a few days.

Kara wondered if she'd forgotten anything or anyone. Well, the Marshfields was closed up, and Urich was possibly dead by now, just like Momma and -- baby --

Remembering her single greatest offense against the Adamas left Kara coughing and quite nearly retching up her lunch. Caroline was immediately at her side, which perversely had a calming affect as a gentle arm came around her shoulders and drew her close. Gods, how much more screwed up could she possibly become when she found peace in the presence of a woman who should have been calling for her blood instead of making all sorts of quiet, calming noises?

"All right, Kara. That's enough. It's okay. It's okay."

At length, Kara felt her stomach settle and quiet as well, although Caroline refused to allow her to pull away. She just kept making the same calming sounds and shushes, which Kara instinctively but unsuccessfully resisted. Both fight and flight were not real options, at least at that moment, and yet Kara couldn't bring herself to surrender entirely to what Caroline offered. She didn't believe in it, couldn't trust it, and sure as shit didn't deserve it.

"You're all right, Kara. It's okay. You're safe. Shhhh."

But damned if Caroline didn't pause in her crooning for an instant was making it frakking hard to keep herself afloat in that familiar lake of self-loathing she normally lived in. Gods help her, Kara actually found herself _believing_, just a hair, that she really was safe for a change.

* * *

A little later, after Caroline had calmed her enough and cleared away the lunch dishes – Kara had wisely refrained from offering her assistance after a pre-emptive look from Caroline – Kara found herself being led into the house's "modest" library. Caroline didn't let go of her from the time they left the kitchen until they were well inside what Kara had once considered a personal sanctuary; it was as if the older woman was afraid she would run off.

The truth of the matter was Kara simply didn't have the strength anymore to mount a serious escape attempt, or a half-assed one for that matter. Having solid food in her stomach and soft carpet under her bare feet for a change effectively impeded her normal responses. The familiar bookshelves and deep-cushioned furniture, all of which gave several layers of both sound- and stress-absorbent insulation, only further eroded the usual hair-trigger that was Kara Thrace's emotional state.

Caroline's withdrawing of her arm from around Kara's waist nearly went unnoticed. Kara suddenly felt unbalanced and unfettered, stumbling a bit as she threw a confused glance over her shoulder. Her feet took her to the sofa, familiar territory from years previous, and she settled there with no real grace or intent. The glare she threw towards Caroline warned against any amusement the latter might have shown; it might have been more effective if she weren't fighting a fool's grin of her own.

Not to say Kara wasn't entirely, or even partially at peace. She was still very confused and fretful. Caroline saw this clearly enough so she quickly chose a volume from the shelves and brought it over to Kara, who had drawn both knees up and tucked them under her chin. It took a few seconds for her to notice Caroline's offering, and a few more to accept it, taking her upper lip between her teeth as she studied the cover.

_Sharek of Nor'wood._ One of the better efforts at modern retelling the old Pythian myth cycle. Not a particular favorite of hers, but not something that would bore her stupid either. "You want me to read this?" she asked, adjusting herself on the sofa.

"If you'd like to," Caroline hummed as she moved across the room. "I figured you'd like something a little light to spend the rest of the day with." She came back over, a quilt over one arm, puzzling Kara further when she directed, "Sit around, Kara. Please."

Not seeing a reason to argue, object or try to leave, Kara did as bade. She was therefore naturally surprised when Caroline laid the cover over her outstretched legs, carefully tucking the edges up underneath her. This compelled Kara to adjust her position a bit further, making her sit lengthwise and leaving her back up against the sofa's low arm. Not the best position to be in there, but certainly a more comfortable one.

Settling herself, Kara opened the book and let her eyes rove over words she could not seem to interpret coherently. This didn't immediately bother her, as it got Caroline out of her hair for a little while. Sure, it wasn't as if she actually _deserved_ some safety and security right then, but neither would she turn away from it for however long or short it lasted.

* * *

Kara wasn't totally mindless as she sat there. She made it a point to turn the pages of the book at semi-regular intervals and put on what should have looked like a serious expression. It must have done the trick as Caroline left her alone for the next few hours, limiting their interaction to looking in from the library's only doorway back into the house. The bay windows facing the backyard were the only other point of egress, and Kara frankly had no desire to try navigating the woods beyond in bare feet.

Her body, traitorous thing that it was, started putting its own demands forward. Among other things, her digestive tract appeared to have started working properly (amazing given how she'd savaged it with so much take-out crap the last five yarens) and had filled both bladder and colon.

She stood up on wobbly legs and marched herself out of the library and across the hall, recalling easily where the nearest half-bath was located. Overwhelming as Caroline's house was to her, Kara had always appreciated the sheer number of bathrooms it contained.

Her ablutions didn't take too long, giving her much needed relief. This fell away completely when she heard Caroline's voice frantically calling out "Kara? Kara?"

Hastily wiping her dripping hands, Kara burst out of the half-bath and called, "What?" Caroline turned out to be barely a metra away. Kara's reply caused her to spin with an uncharacteristic snarl at the sight of her wayward daughter. Instinctively flinching in anticipation of a physical blow, Kara instead found herself gathered up into a tight hug that pinned her arms to her side. Her confusion only worsened with Caroline pulling back slightly, hands now grasping her upper arms, and giving her a sharp shake.

"What were you thinking, disappearing like that?" Caroline demanded.

Kara pulled herself free and snarled in reply. "I had to take a dump. What? You wanted me to shit on your sofa?" Caroline's face was the embodiment of wrath, but Kara willed herself to remain still and meet it full on. Whatever fury fueled the older woman's outrage abruptly morphed into some kind of humor, causing Caroline to laugh even as tears pooled in her eyes.

She chuckled aloud and laid her hands very, very gently on Kara's shoulders. "No, I certainly do _not_ want you to do that." A shuddering breath followed. "But please, for the sake of my heart, please don't just vanish like that. Let me know where you are. I was terrified you'd --"

When Caroline didn't immediately continue, Kara prompted her testily. "What?"

"That you'd run away from us again."

_That_ made even less sense to Kara than Caroline's earlier behavior and all of Lee's crazy talk about priests and ceremonies combined. Confusion drove her thoughts towards previously unconsidered possibilities, like how maybe she'd never recovered from her beating. Perhaps she was still lying on that dirty floor in that tenement in Sparta and all this was just some crazy delusion her head was using to distract her from how her major organs were all shutting down. If that were the case, she rather wished her useless brain wasn't working so diligently to spare her any pain. The contradiction there was that if pain meant you were alive, didn't its absence mean you were already dead? So why did she still _hurt_, but it was only in her head, and not like she normally _hurt_, which was normally in her chest? And it was a different _hurt_ entirely: a slightly duller ache that didn't stab at her every frakking second of every endless day. Did that mean she'd been _dead_ to this point and was only now becoming _alive_? What kind of crazy thinking was _that_? Had someone changed her name to Eurydice when she wasn't looking? Did that make Lee her personal Orpheus? Were they both out of the Underworld or was this some special level of Tartarus reserved for Baby Killers and well-endowed idiots who didn't have enough sense of self-preservation to recognize what a spiritual poison she was?

"Kara?" Caroline's gentle voice broke that line thought. Kara blinked and focused back on the woman standing before her, holding onto her as if she were some skittish pet. "Kara? Where were you just now?"

"Wha -- what?" she sputtered, not really understanding the question.

Caroline stared deeply into her eyes for another moment, then took her hands in a still-gentle grip. "C'mon. Back to the library." Kara's awareness was wholly taken up in grappling with the profound philosophical question of whether she was deal or alive, and so had no mental resources to turn toward resistance of Caroline's directive. It wasn't until Caroline had her sitting back on the library's sofa that Kara appreciated how far she'd wandered from herself, heart clenching at the prospect of her mouth having worked without direct supervision, and thus Something That Should Not Be Spoken having slipped out. _That_ would never do, because Caroline really didn't need to know what kind of human wreck she really was; it would only prompt her to try her hand at repairing her, and if Kara knew anything, it was that she was utterly beyond salvage.

To cover her clear embarrassment, she immediately picked up the book she'd previously discarded and opened it to some random page, ducking behind the open leaves as if it were castle walls. She stayed that way for several minutes. The quiet of the room had her thinking she was alone again.

Except Caroline evidentially hadn't gone anywhere, as she softly called out, "Kara?"

"Hmm?" Kara kept her book-wall firmly in place.

"You aren't really reading that, are you?"

"Umm -- yes. Yes, I am."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You realize you're holding it upside down, right?"

"Umm --"

Caroline sighed. "I know you're a bit of a genius, Kara, but that's pushing it."

"Umm --"

Caroline's footsteps approached and Kara felt the cushions near her feet dip. "Put the book down, Kara." She did so, eyes downcast and once again chewing her lip in anticipation of -- whatever. It was only with considerable effort that she kept from squeaking in surprise when Caroline reached out and touched her knee. "Please look up." It wasn't an order this time, but a very soft, very nervous-sounding request. In a burst of petulance, Kara seriously considered shaking her head in refusal.

Instead, she raised her eyes and met Caroline's. "I'm sorry I frightened you," the elder woman said. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

"Um --"

Caroline continued, saying "I -- I just don't like having you out of sight for very long. It scared me when I didn't find you in here, but I had no right to act the way I did towards you."

"Um, s'okay," Kara stated, trying hard to sound agreeable, even if she was utterly at a loss about what was actually being discussed. "I know I'm -- I act like an ingrate and everything --"

Caroline recoiled slightly, blinking as if just slapped in the nose. Kara pressed on heedlessly.

"And I know you'll need your house back soon -- don't worry, I'll pay you back for everything -- what I'm trying to say is, uh, I -- uh --" She noted Caroline's stricken expression and asked, "What? What'd I say?"

Caroline face scrunched tight and it looked as if she were biting her tongue out with the effort _not_ to speak whatever was on her mind. She took a deep breath, then another, and finally gazed at Kara with an intensity that was nothing short of burning.

"Kara, _this_ is your home, as much as it is Lee's and Zak's and mine. And --" She raised a hand to silence the objection that was about issue forth. "_And_, I'm going to say this as many times as it takes to get it through that brilliant, beautiful, and impossibly thick skull of yours. Therefore, you can check any talk about moving off, paying me back, and _anything_ that involves taking you away from us again at the door. It is _not_ happening again."

She had to fight down another outburst before continuing in the same frighteningly even tone. "We -- I -- made that mistake before. I'll do whatever penance I must for that, but I'm _not_ loosing my daughter again. Especially not to whatever imaginary guilt-trip you think is your right."

Kara instinctively shrank back against the arm of the sofa, drawing her knees up once again, trying to present as small a target as possible. In that moment, deaf to the words involved, she saw no difference between Caroline Adama and Socrata Nerva. Any sense of safety she'd previously enjoyed was stripped away as if hit by gale-force winds. Maybe braving the forest preserve out back was the way to go after all.

Then she noticed Caroline had stopped talking, that she was now sitting there, hunched over and holding her face in both hands. What unnerved her most was how Caroline's shoulders were shaking in time with the muffled sobs that she was apparently trying to hide. Kara hesitatingly reached out towards the older woman, fully expecting to be batted away with as much violence as Ares himself. Instead, Caroline turned her damp cheek into her palm, planting a small kiss there before looking back up with a watery, wavering smile.

"Sorry about that," she said throatily. "You have a knack for bringing this out in me, girl."

"Um -- sorry?"

"It's a _good_ thing, Kara. I've -- these are things that need to come out." Caroline laughed, which came out more like an unstable rattle. "An' I'm too much the coward to do it on my own."

Once again, Kara was at a loss how to respond. It was one thing for her to be cursed out for the least trespass; she was used to that. It was practically her default setting for familiar interactions. But being thanked for just being, well, _her_? She dearly wished there was a bottle of the good stuff nearby, or even the bad stuff for that matter, because gods knew there was no way she could deal with much more of this without a _lot_ of liquid courage.

* * *

The sun was touching the horizon when Caroline decided to let them leave the library. More accurately, she acceded to Kara's very practical point that she needed a shower, or a bath, or simply a bucket of soapy water. She wasn't vain enough to deny she was starting to smell a bit.

Caroline made the expected noises and did the requisite fussing over letting her somewhere that might have sharp objects. Kara endured it, making her own noises that she wouldn't do anything drastic; she made a point of _not_ detailing what constituted drastic action. Not that she had any actual intentions of damaging herself, at least not any more than she already was, that is.

Still, it was no surprise really that Caroline's one proviso was that she be able to keep Kara in sight while in she was in the bath. Kara was just pleased they were getting out of _that _room and that there was the promise of some relief from scratchy skin. Maybe she could even talk Caroline into letting her wash her hair as well; gods knew it was getting itchy.

Caroline, being the mistress of the house, decreed they would use the bath attached to the master bedroom and had raced upstairs first to prepare it for her. Kara went along with this, pleased to just be in motion. She had no doubt Caroline was just hiding all the razors and whatnot so she couldn't do what she wasn't even considering doing but which was still within the realm of remote possibility if she were left wholly to her own devices; i.e. opening her major arteries. It would be the height of poor manners to paint the bathroom tiles red.

Kara was ascending the stairs at a slow pace when the front door opened. She turned a bit quicker than necessary, nerves unexpected jangled for some reason. It was Lee.

_Lee_, who walked in, and looked up at her. _Lee, _who took one look at her, and visibly flinched. _Lee, _who visibly flinched, then retreated out of sight without a word.

As she turned and made her way upstairs, Kara wondered if should have felt slighted, upset, or relieved at his behavior. At least that's what was inside her head. Staring at the small section of the floor he'd previously stood in, all that the rest of her felt was numb.

Kara barely noticed she'd reached the master bathroom, although she did wonder exactly when it had been decided she would be taking a bath, a _bubble_ bath no less. Caroline was adding a handful of daileon leaves to the water when she walked in. Gods, this woman was going to kill her. Kara knew would take _yarens _to pay off the bill for everything she was using here.

"Did I hear the front door?" Caroline asked as she helpfully took the clothes Kara discarded.

"Yeah." She lowered herself into the thick-scented water, submerging herself up to her neck. "Lee's home."

"Oh?" There was no missing how Caroline's voice hitched slightly. "Did he -- say anything to you?"

Kara sighed, body loosening in the warm water. "Naw. Took one look at me and marched off." She closed her eyes briefly, only for them to snap open, sensing the tension that apparently gripped Caroline. "What? What's wrong?"

She was prevented from rising by Caroline's hand on her shoulder. "Kara? I want you to swear to me you'll stay here for a few minutes."

"Not going anywhere," Kara sighed, settling herself back into the water.

"Swear to me, Kara," Caroline urged.

"What? Stay in this tub?"

"Yes. Promise me you won't move from there."

"Fine. I swear to Artemis and Aphrodite." Kara couldn't resist a bitter snort. "Like they're listening to me anymore."

Caroline's only response was a long-suffering sigh as she stood up and gathered Kara's underwear and tracksuit. She left the room with a final caution of, "Don't fall asleep."

Kara snorted again, but scooted herself up so her elbows rested on the rim. Even if she did fall asleep – a distinct possibility given how perfect the water's temperature was – she doubted she would actually _sink_. Sure, the bathtub was wide and deep enough for three people to sit in there _without_ having to become really friendly with each other's forms. Whatever Caroline had added to the water practically had her floating in there like a piece of driftwood. At least that's what it felt like.

The downside to this negative buoyancy was that it caused her mind to wander, which meant that her thoughts were quickly drawn into that naked singularity in her soul that was named Lee Adama.

His behavior at catching sight of her wasn't too surprising, albeit a tad distressing. Had he finally figured out what an unattractive mess she was, or was it just his sense of smell was sharper than before? Her brain wondered idly what he'd learned about her at the North Wing, concluding that more than likely was the cause of his clear distaste for her presence. Maybe the fact she was going to be a Captain ahead of him, entirely without merit no less, was what had him so ruffled. Then, if there were any merit involved fleet promotions, Lee would be a Major by now.

Maybe she could make it a condition of her promotion that Lee be advanced as well? It was the least she could do for him professionally. She'd already reconciled she'd be at his beck and call on everything else for as long as he deigned to keep her around.

Before she could put too much thought into what _that_ might involve – fortunate because what little she did think up was at once chilling and arousing – Kara heard Caroline return. "Everything okay?" she asked without opening her eyes.

"Fine, fine," was Caroline's breezy and unconvincing response. Kara frowned but said nothing further. She was going to enjoy what little time she was allowed here. Whatever Lee's damage was, doubtless something stemming directly from her continued existence, would just have to keep for a bit longer. Who knew when she'd get to bathe again like this?

Caroline made no effort to engage her for a while, instead sitting on the closed toilet across the room and shuffling through the afternoon paper. Kara just floated amid the bubbles, imagining herself on a cloud of them. The water carried a familiar scent that her mind, distracted as it was by mulling over Lee's sulkiness, had a bit of trouble placing. Eventually the name surfaced on her consciousness and Kara heard herself mutter, "Mossberry?"

"Hmm," Caroline hummed in acknowledgment. "Your uncle Lorran has a stake in one of the farms on Leonis. He sends me a bushel every season."

"Oh." Leonis mossberries were a high-end piece of produce, used in a host of hygiene products. The fact it could be grown only on certain tracts of land on that one colony meant the market prices they'd fetch were consistently high. Kara knew Lee's family had money, but this was nearly beyond the pale.

Then the rest of Caroline's statement registered. "Wait. Who's Lorran?"

"Your uncle."

Kara opened her eyes and looked directly towards Caroline. "I don't have an uncle."

"You do actually. Two of them, in fact." Caroline refolded the paper so she could focus on a twenty-line editorial column concerning the balance of trade between Picon and Canceron. "My older brothers Lorran and Dyrk Darden."

Kara opened, and then closed her mouth without making any further sound. Caroline was back to being imponderable and confusing again. She could only shake her head and go back to soaking in berry-and-flower suffused bath water. She steered her thoughts back to contemplating what she would do about Lee once she emerged. The problem there was that Lee tended to take up more and more of her headspace, squeezing out little things like reason and perspective.

Would he let her sleep in his bed again? She'd found it -- comfortable Okay, that was a dodge; she actually found sleeping in Lee's arms comfortable, and now found herself just wanting to be around his physical vicinity on a near-constant basis. Would he take pity on her two nights in a row? Probably not, at least not with some hefty incentives, stuff she couldn't really contemplate doing without having a bad flashback to the Marshfields; her vomiting while having sex was sure to be a mood killer.

Okay, so if she weren't allowed _there_, she'd ask if the floor was acceptable to him. Maybe he'd take her presence in exchange for -- what? She only had her own body to trade with, and Lee had made it pretty clear he had zero interest in _that_. Heck, he couldn't even stand to look at her for more than a couple seconds at a stretch.

Caroline broke that thought off right there. "Whatever you're thinking, Kara, stop it." She set the newspaper aside and walked over to kneel beside the tub. "Let's get your hair washed. You're probably a giant wrinkle by now."

"Um, okay." Before Kara could even start to reach for any of the shampoos, Caroline deftly plucked one of the bottles off the nearby rack and the handheld shower head from beside the faucet. She activated the latter, carefully adjusting the temperature so it matched the still-steaming bath water.

She then asked, "Please sit forward, Kara." Kara did so, only because she was still trying to process how quickly Caroline had moved. She managed not to squeak or move when a gentle rain of warm water was directed on her unruly mop. Once it was thoroughly soaked, Caroline massaged some sweet-smelling gel into her hair, then massaged it further into a thick lather. After that was another spray of water that rinsed the whole lot out, leaving her scalp tingling.

The entire process took barely three minutes, after which Caroline declared, "Okay, time to get out."

"Do I have to?" Kara asked in a farcical, whiney voice.

"Yes, you have to." Caroline said this deadly seriousness. "I want a human being for a daughter, not a walking wrinkle." She reached into the tub and opened the drain. "Plus which, it's past your bedtime."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really." Caroline stood and held open a large cotton towel, which Kara somewhat reluctantly stepped into, which was then wrapped around completely her like a cocoon. Caroline grabbed up a second one and began vigorously rubbing her short hair dry. Wrapped up like a woodgrub waiting for the turning of seasons, Kara could only stand there and endure these gentle ministrations.

Caroline then took to rubbing the rest of her dry, her touch gentle and sure the whole while. Kara had to admit the pampering was -- nice. Not to mention confusing as Hades, simply because she had zero experience with such treatment in her past. It must have showed because Caroline paused at that moment and gave her a small shake.

"Stop thinking about it, Kara." Caroline didn't specify what it was and Kara had no inclination to enlighten her. Instead she decided to see how long Caroline would tolerate the silence between them and pressed her lips shut. Ironically, it was her tolerance that didn't last, leading her to clear her throat once Caroline had finished.

"Am I sleeping nude or what?" she asked, unaccountably feeling testy. Gods her head was all over the map now, mortified that was going to be the case even as she secretly wished it so.

"Not unless you want to, Kara," Caroline replied genially. "Although I'd think about how that might affect Lee."

Ah, gods. Now there was something she really did _not_ need to be thinking about in front of Caroline. On the one hand, her body had very pleasant memories of sleeping skin-to-skin with Lee; on the other, her body had some very unpleasant memories of the last time someone got that close to her. She flushed a little realizing the former more readily came to mind.

Caroline either didn't notice this time, or simply didn't choose to comment. Instead, she reached around behind her and held out a satin nightshirt. Kara quickly put it on, noticing that the arms were a bit long and there was no underwear. "I'm afraid we've gone through all the pairs I got for you," Caroline said apologetically. "We'll get you some more tomorrow."

Taking Kara's hand, she led the way out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It was barely a dozen steps before Kara worked out where they were heading, Lee's room. Caroline had to pull Kara the last two steps past the threshold. Lee's hunched over form was clearly visible as he perched on the edge of the bed. "Lee?" she called over softly, causing him to look up and unfold his hands from his lap. Kara noted how -- panicked -- he seemed, right after she noted the bandages covering his right knuckles.

Caroline released her hold on Kara and said, "Behave, you two." With that admonishment, she quit the room entirely and closed the door behind her.

Both of them jumped as it clicked shut. It would have been amusing under other circumstances. They simply looked at each other, ready to run for the hills, yet neither was prepared to pull out of the other's presence.

* * *

"What happened?" Kara opened after several beats.

"Huh?"

"Your hand. What happened?"

"Huh? Oh. Uh, a glass, um, broke in my hand."

Kara approached carefully, taking the injured hand in her own, examining it with critical intensity. "Shouldn't the bandages be wrapped around your palm and not the knuckles?"

"Um --" Lee's eyes flickered all over her, lingering on her cheeks, neck and breasts. Kara suddenly felt unsteady under his scrutiny, barely resisting the urge to fold her arms and dig her heels in. Copping an attitude was likely to get her tossed out.

"How, um, are you okay?" he asked in a stumbling voice.

"I, uh, okay," she replied in an equally uncertain voice. Unable to hold his gaze, she turned her eyes toward the bed, trying not to look too longingly at it.

He'd made it; of course, he'd made it. Unmade beds needed to be made. Probably just as well she'd miss out on it and wreck his careful work. She started asking "Can I, uh --?"

"Hmm?" Lee replied, as if surprised she was addressing him.

"A pillow?"

Lee blinked rapid-fire at this request, looking at her as if she were speaking Old Koboli. "What?" he frowned.

"Can I have a pillow? For the floor."

"The -- floor?" His expression was darkening fast, prompting Kara to explain herself quickly.

"I'm -- I'll take the floor -- it's your room after all. Right?" Well, _try _to explain herself. Lee closed his eyes as if in pain, nearly staggering back only to hold himself upright by sheer willpower.

"Kara, _you're_ taking the bed." He held up his undamaged hand and added a forceful "No arguments."

"Okay, fine." Kara swallowed past the ball of anxiety that hadn't dissolved yet. "What about you? Are you going to -- stay?"

"Do you -- uhm -- can I?"

"I -- yeah. I'd like -- I'd like you to. Stay."

"Okay, fine." He turned and took one of the three pillows from the bed and settled it at the foot of the bed, then moving to the closet and taking out a thick comforter.

"Um, Lee?"

"Hmm?"

"You can -- the bed's big enough for --" Kara found her throat tightening. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them.

Lee's head snapped over to stare at her, brow creasing as if trying to divine some deeper meaning to her oh-so-obvious offer. Kara hadn't missed how the tanks he was wearing rode up every time he moved, displaying a very well sculpted stomach, and his well-defined abs were in clear display. Maybe, if she concentrated on that really, _really_ hard, she could keep the memories of what that asshole Lake had pulled at bay long enough to make a half-decent performance for him.

"Are you sure?" he asked huskily.

"Yeah," she nodded, giving him what she hoped was a brave smile. "I'm sure I can _control _myself."

Lee narrowed his eyes, reading her like an open book. A child's book. One with _big_ pictures and baby words.

Whatever he saw, whatever he might be thinking, it wasn't enough to make him reconsider the offer. Instead, he took her hands with a delicate grip and led her the rest of the way to his bed. He turned down the comforter and sheets, then chivalrously helped her tolie down. Kara wondered if she should strip down or if Lee wanted to do it himself.

"Can -- Kara?"

Kara felt her composure start to falter. If he wanted sex, he'd need to get a move on. "Yeeeees?"

"Can I -- hold -- you?"

Gods, but he sounded as scared and uncertain as she was. It nearly had her breaking down entirely. All she could do was give him a sharp nod. Lee spooned her from behind, molding himself to her back, one arm coming around her chest and the other cradling her head. His touch was gentle and -- nice. It confused her, even as her body relaxed into him.

Lee wasn't the least bit relaxed however, which only puzzled Kara more. What the frak did he _want _with her? Didn't he get that she was his? She was wearing his godsbedamned ring, wasn't she? What more did he need?

"I'm going to kill him," Lee whispering into her hair. This drew Kara's attention to the small fact her hair was getting wet again, coincidentally where Lee face was burying itself. Kara couldn't reconcile those two points with his _non sequitur_.

Not wanting to incite Lee's obviously fragile nerves further, she asked the very practical question, "Uh, who? Zak?"

"No," Lee shook his head. "That frakker Lake." He drew her closer, grip soft and completely nonsexual. "I find him, I'm going to _kill_ him for touching you."

"Uh," Kara hummed, struggling to make sense of the words. Since when did Lee Adama talk so casually, so readily about committing murder? What had he seen or been told that changed him so much? Was she so cursed that her presence alone could drive the finest of men mad? On top of which she now had to decide whether she should be reassured or panicked at being in the arms of a frakking homicidal lunatic.

At length, she concluded those questions had no real bearing on the fact she was lying in Lee Adama's bed, in Lee Adam's arms, and that he was speaking to her; it was her one prayer answered.

The gods could call her across Styx right there and she'd go without complaint. The only question was how many of them would be needed to pry her out of Lee's arms first. It made her giggle and shake, which only left her wondering about her sanity once more. Kara knew if she couldn't get it and get herself under control, Lee was sure to take notice. He'd ask her what was wrong. And then?

And then all bets were off.

_TBC..._

* * *

**De Author Seez: **_Yeah, big chapter. Hoped you enjoyed it as much as I did. Lemme know!_

_And for those wondering, "Nerva" was the unlamented Socrata's maiden name. I know this because I made it up just now._


	24. Noctures and Interludes

_(It was recommended I give the angst and agony a short break, lest I leave the readers too numb to appreciate the bloodsweatandtears that go into this story. Its also about time I expand a little on the whole Favor's Trading business. Hope you enjoy the 2,064 word break here.)__Part 24: Nocturnes and Interludes_

* * *

Major Otto Lyceus was, by both profession and inclination, an early riser. It was a rare day that his name was not the first on the admission's log in the North Wing, before even his workaholic cousin.

The morning following Lieutenant Adama's first visit, Otto arrived with his usual travel mug of coffee, at his usual time of 0605 Hours. Marine Sergeant Heloise was on duty at the reception desk, just as she was every morning Otto could remember. Long experience had honed their morning exchanges down to the barest, most subtle essentials. The Marine took her duties seriously anyway and always ran ID checks against both data systems and personnel hard copies. Otto wasted none of his extensive charms on her, as much out of respect for her professionalism as the fact they would just be ignored entirely.

Once she nodded him past her station, Otto rode the elevator to the ninth floor. His tradecraft as an Investigator included making sure anyone trying to follow him would have to work at it. Every morning he would take the elevator to some floor other than six, and then take the stairs up or down to his assigned office. This provided opportunity to identify, and hopefully shake off, any tails that might be on him. It even worked on several occasions.

Special Prosecutions had a lot of convictions under its belt, and consequently a lot of parties that wouldn't mind doing it damage. The Favor's Trading scandal had only added to both totals, and Otto now lived in a state of perpetual caution. He had no idea how Alac dealt with it.

He saw no sign of tails or lamplighters that morning, but Otto didn't relax until he was in his office. Even then, he paused just long enough to unlock the facsimile machine. The damned thingwas antiquated by modern standards, which actually made it ideal for secure transmittals. Only nine people in all the Colonies had the number to it, and only three had the key that would unlock it so it would print. It had no memory to speak of, retaining any messages only until it printed, after which time the memory wiped itself completely.

For added security, those who might try to access it without an actual key would find themselves showered with pieces of electronics and plastic as the shaped charge nestled deep inside it detonated. This had happened once already, with two would-be thieves left disfigured and in critical condition for several months.

Two sheets of paper slid out of the machine and the small LCD screen confirmed there were no others in the memory queue. Otto picked them up without a second glance and moved to a door far in the back of the office. Like the facsimile, there were only three keys that would unlock it, with similar security features built into the door itself.

Thankfully, no one had attempted to gain admittance there, yet. It would be a shame for so much damage to be done for so little reason.

Otto unlocked the door and quickly entered, mildly surprised to find he wasn't alone. "Don't you ever sleep?" he asked his cousin.

Alac was too busy staring at The Wall to turn around. "Only during defense presentations."

The Wall was the west-facing wall of the room itself, eighty separate photos tacked across it with strands of various colored tape linking one to the next, providing a prosecutor's road map for the Favor Trading case. Where normally an erasable whiteboard or easel would be used to flow-chart prosecution targets or event-chains along a vertical axis, this one was of such size and length it had to be done along the horizontal. It had surpassed a size that could have comfortably fit on any easel after just the first six monens of investigation, and so they had taken to using the room's wall itself.

Even now, two years on, there were still five Court Martials pending and three prosecutions ongoing in the civilian sector, with strong hints coming from the defendants that at least four more names could be added. The battered conference table that sat in the middle of the room was covered with files and additional photos. There was a black one that drew Otto's eye.

"That Burlik's file?"

"Yeah. He wants a meeting." Alac was moving to the far left of the wall.

"What's he offering this time? More names in the Quorum?"

"Dunno."

"You going to meet with him?" Black files were completed prosecutions, sentences passed out and the defendants out of circulation.

"His reps, maybe. I dunno." Reynold Burlik himself was serving two consecutive terms of ten years each on Narals Island. While Burlik himself was nothing more than a glorified secretary for various Traders, he knew names and was, however indirectly, responsible for the six Favors who had committed suicide over the last ten years. His only break was that they hadn't been able to connect him to any of the murders involved.

"No way he'll be allowed out." Sentences to Narals Island, like Camp Charoot, didn't allow parole.

"Exactly," Alac nodded.

Otto took note of his cousin's distraction. "You really don't care, do you?"

"Not in the slightest." Alac tacked up three new photos under the one of Kara Thrace: Lee Adama, William Adama and Duras Nagala. He then connected each with a strip of blue-colored tape. Like the case folders, the colors of the tape denoted particular sorts of connections; blue indicated family or legal connections, ones unrelated or untouched by the Traders.

This was the first time that color had been used since the first interview with Artos Lake. Back then, the cousins and their staff had been under the naive belief this was a simple case of a senior officer taking advantage of a subordinate. Since then they had gone through two full rolls black and green tape – black for blackmail and coercion, green for monetary exchanges for use of the Favors – as well as several boxes worth of folders and parchment.

One in eight of the photos carried a black "X" indicating they were dead, nearly all of them one of the Favors and most of those at their own hands.

"Don't tell me you're linking Nagala into this mess?" Otto asked.

"Just making sure we know who's got an interest."

Otto remembered the two faxes he had in his hand. Quickly glancing over them, he couldn't help but snort. "Oh, he's got an interest alright."

"Eh?" This got Alac looking up, taking the sheet Otto held out for him. It was a simple memo from Admiral Waynes' office, the body of which read:

_Husker Adama is asking Nagala why his son is in your office. Have a KISS answer I can give him by 1300 because I really don't want either of them nosing in._

_Have a bullet-point list for an offer to Thrace by then as well. Her name is sure to come up._

It could never be said Kimmet Waynes wasted words. It was the second part that seemed to worry Otto more, but then cutting deals with defendants wasn't his job. "What are we offering Thrace, anyway?"

"What did you tell her?" Alac asked in reply.

Otto offered a careless shrug, his usual cover for his nerves. "Just that her rank was restored and she wasunder Judicial Seal."

"That all?"

"I, uh, made mention that she might be up for Captain."

Alac snorted. "At the very least." He let his eyes roam over The Wall, invariably drifting back to the far left. Kara Thrace's photo, a graduation photo taken from her service jacket and the only one available to them from the beginning, was tacked there, with a single strip of black tape connecting it to one of Major Artos Lake. From Lake flowed nearly two dozen more stripes of black, all going to the right and each touching another photo. Each of those photos had additional strips of tape, some black and some green, leading to still other photos to the right; some of these were -- notable.

Beyond there were still more and more photos; Favors, and Traders of them.

It was amazing, almost impossible to believe this network had evolved, more or less by accident, over the last twenty yarens. Never mind how it had managed to remain off the grid during the same time, never mind that it was all undone simply because of a complaint of Improper Conduct by a newly commissioned Lieutenant JG in the Reservists against an instructor who'd had one too many shots. It was nearly enough to have Alac believing in the gods.

By rights, Thrace shouldn't have even been stuck in the Marshfields. The acquisition of the Favors usually happened during training. It was a pretty nice set-up; the cadets were instructed and trained in the classroom, unaware that they were using texts fifteen to twenty yarens old. When it came time for their basic flight qualifier exams, those considered vulnerable were given the Active Duty exams, while the rest given ones that were in line with the class instruction.

The idea, one that proved remarkably successful, was that the vulnerable ones would fail their exams in spectacular fashion regardless of how well they performed in the sims. They would then be approached and offered their Flight Status in exchange for their favors. The hook, once in, was damn near impossible to extract, and far too many otherwise competent pilots had been holding onto their wings only because they had to open their legs or ass cheeks on a regular basis.

Unfortunately for them, it seemed Lake was no more stable than a Gemenese ecstatic preacher high on Sno-flake and had taken a shine to Thrace. He had gone so far as to personally orchestrate most of her duties while staying at the Marshfields. When Otto got around to interviewing him, Lake had made an effort to shield his down-river contacts from responsibility for Thrace's dismissal; what ultimately caught him was trying to explain away his seemingly bizarre choice of phrases with her. If anything, his answers had gotten less and less coherent with each telling, and Otto Lyceus was masterful at getting people to talk about things they didn't realize they actually knew. Lake had spilled ten names after the second interview, and twenty more after that. He'd all but begged to be locked away somewhere, clearly terrified of what he was revealing.

Through it all, Thrace had been a mystery to them. Admiral Waynes had even gone so far as to query Corman and Seymoyen at Fleet Intelligence, just to make sure she hadn't been some kind of plant. Her name came up from Nagala every now and then, but usually in relation to the line-item appropriation the Fleet had taken including in its annual budget for settlements to the Favors and their families. Thrace's was probably going to be the largest yet, above even what the Edmunson family's received on behalf of their murdered daughter; if her mother-in-law called in any of the school of legal sharks who circled the Adama name, it'd likely blow a few records.

And she deserved every cybol she'd get.

* * *

Otto did what he could to organize the filed on the tabletop, conscious that Alac had his own methodology with their parchment. Usually they complimented each other's manners well enough, but sometimes less so. He hoped that morning wouldn't be the latter case.

"What's up for today, Major?" Otto asked, looking through the files.

"Lieutenant Adama is coming in at 1200 Hours."

"For what?"

"I want him to talk to Chapel."

"You called _Chapel_ in?" Otto frowned. "I thought he was -- well --"

Alac snorted. "Chapel's okay now."

"And you want -- _him_-- to talk to Adama?"

"He's okay, Otto. Really."

Otto could only shake his head. "Okay. And after Chapel talks to Adama?"

Alac shrugged and went back to studying The Wall. Otto sighed and went back to studying the files. It looked to be a long day ahead of them all.

_TBC...as soon as you hit the Next Chapter button in the lower right!_


	25. Words, Allusions, and Allegories

_Part 25: Words, Allusions, and Allegories_

A cascade of wants and desires overtook Lee for the few seconds his eyes touched Kara's, each crashing down on him with such force he was very nearly driven to his knees.

He wanted to race up the stairs, carry her back to his room, and never let them leave.

He wanted to fall to his knees at her feet and beg her forgiveness for abandoning her.

He wanted to grab her, hustle them both to the spaceport, hijack the first available shuttle, and jump them out beyond the Red Line.

He wanted to just reach out and hold her forever.

He wanted to pull his sidearm out and ensure, once and for all, that no one could ever, ever hurt them or separate them again.

That last one, the imagery involved so crystal clear and intense, caused a full-body shudder and a strategic retreat out of her line of sight. Another second in the presence of the pain she embodied, reminding him of his utter failure as both a man and a partner, and the last option might well have come to pass. What stopped him there wasn't the fact his weapon was locked in his desk upstairs, or even that it would leave his mother and his brother and maybe his father alternately devastated and cursing him a coward. _They_ didn't even enter his mental calculus.

No, no. He decided he'd save his bullets for more _worthy_ targets.

Lee promised himself that, unless Kara's gods got to them first, he would personally dispatch each and every name that Lake had coughed up. And, he thought with a giddiness that bordered on mania, he would do so only after they each in turn named a few additional names. He'd frakking blow up Picon Fleet HQ _and_ the Senate Building if that's what it took to wipe out the rot that had touched and _hurt_ her.

If the gods _did_decide to intervene, well, they'd have to be pretty frakking overt to placate him. Nemesis would have to be extremely creative in how she meted out her justice this time around. Artemis too, if she could bother herself with some genuine hunting for a change. Lee decided he'd give Zeus a pass if all the All-Father did was throw lightning bolts, so long as the damned things found their targets.

And when the guilty parties were all gone and there were no more names? Then and only then would he look to removing both Kara and himself from this world -- and but only if he sensed there was even the remotest possibility he'd missed someone -- or that Kara might so much as stub her toe on -- something.

"Frak!" Lee cursed, keenly aware of how far off the proverbial reservation his head was. Because he needed a physical outlet for the raw energies coursing through him, he balled a fist and planted it with considerable force into the stone façade wall that made up the kitchen's inner wall. He was sure he felt a couple knuckles crack, hot agony shooting through his hand and up his arm. It was ecstasy incarnate, addictive, and damned near had him repeating the act -- only for his mother to walk in at that very moment.

"Lee Adama!" she hissed, her face clouding over at the sight of his cradling his damaged hand. "Dammit, Lee, I don't need this right now."

"You don't need?" was his hissed reply, too much turmoil within him to play the dutiful and polite son right then. When the frak had Caroline Adama's needs entered the picture? He offered no other comment, positive or negative, when she wet a washcloth and pressed it onto his bruised knuckles.

"Or Kara. Lee, my gods, I'm scared to leave her alone for _one_ second, and I find you down here doing -- _this_?"

"I saw her file," Lee found himself croaking, heart and head throbbing in time with his hand. "I read what that frakker tried -- he -- gods --" His legs buckled and left him stumbling back now, exhausted and drained. His mother's hands cupped his chin and her urgent voice was all that kept him upright.

"Lee? Lee! Listen! She's upstairs, in a bath. I am not leaving her alone. Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah."

"Bandage your hand and get your room ready. She's sleeping in there tonight. Dammit, Lee. Clear your head and pull it together!"

The sharpness of her voice was more effective than the words themselves. All those years in uniform, being barked at by big men with tiny souls with almost exactly those same words, had at least instilled enough discipline in him to react as needed. Apparently satisfied with his silent concurrence, Caroline left the kitchen. Lee followed a moment later.

* * *

However, he did not immediately go upstairs. He'd calmed enough to where he recognized (a) he was still too volatile to risk being around Kara, to say nothing of her likely state of mind or dress, and (b) his showing up with his hand bloodied could be read to have all sorts of ugly connotations. Kara would likely be upset enough with him over that morning that, _if_ he were supremely lucky, she'd relegate him sleeping on the floor -- on the other end of the room and well away from her.

As dismaying as that prospect was, her reading some kind of insane subtexts into his appearing with an injured hand was even less acceptable. She needed to feel safe. If her ordering him to keep his distance was necessary, so be it. He was _not_ going to spook her into acting contrary to her needs; at least not right then. Who knew what would happen tomorrow, or the next day? Lee chuckled. Probably the exact same thing.

Confident his second career as an Oracle was well established, Lee busied himself in one of the main floor's bathrooms, cleaning and wrapping his bruised knuckles, wincing all the while. Yeah, it was bad and he'd have only a limited range of motion for a few days. Having x-rays taken might not be a bad idea either. It was something he'd worry over tomorrow.

Provided he made it through the night without Kara turning him into a literal as well as an emotional smear on the carpet.

Pleased with his handiwork, Lee left the bathroom and ascended the stairs. He paused at the top, making a point to peek around the corners to ensure Kara was not about to appear and ruin all his good intentions. He hastened down the hall and into his bedroom, which was still in the dichotomous state he had left it in half a day earlier: the closet, desk and shelves all neat and organized, and the bed a disaster area of tangled sheets and down comforter.

Lee again engaged in a bit of strategic and sanity-preserving delay, pulling his uniform off and changing into fresh tanks and sweatpants. It wasn't until he'd finished with the drawstring of the latter that it occurred to him he'd gone commando. There was that wholly male part of his psyche that didn't mind the thought of Kara of having such -- easy access to him. The rest of him wasn't able to think up any kind of argument against that, so he decided to leave it for the moment.

That chore done, Lee turned to the bed, quickly and efficiently stripping it down. Kara would doubtless want clean sheets. Again, years of military life gave him the direction needed. He procured fresh bedding and quickly had the sheets arranged and tucked in to the satisfaction of his internal drill instructor. He draped the same comforter from that morning over the mattress, carefully arranging it so the symmetry was perfect.

This flurry of activity was enough to leave him momentarily winded and dizzy, sufficiently so that he needed to sit down. Why he should feel like this, he had no idea. It wasn't as if he hadn't gone through these motions day after day for the last few years. His stomach started knotting up right then and it hit Lee he'd gone without anything more solid than some badly brewed coffee since breakfast. Good sense dictated he should have gone back downstairs and raided the refrigerator.

Good sense took the jump seat behind blind panic when his mother led Kara into the room. Lee could only stand there agog as she glided in, shrouded in shimmering satin and looking through him as if he was but plain glass. His mother said something nonsensical and then fled the room, probably in anticipation of something loud happening. Lee himself could barely breathe at that point, and Kara looked content to stand there and play a statue -- up to a point, that is.

That point was apparently quickly reached and exceeded, propelling Kara forward to hold and examine his injured hand. "What happened?" Lee grunted, trying to sound non-committal. "Your hand? What happened?" she repeated, a tad more insistent now.

Lee offered a little white lie about a glass breaking in his hand. Kara naturally saw right through this and asked, "Shouldn't the bandages be wrapped around your palm and not the knuckles?"

There was no way in creation Lee could answer her, given she'd moved close enough that he could visually peruse her face and neck. His eyes raked over those spots, seeking the smallest sign of the damage she'd endured. There was none on her cheek or neck, and try as he might, his vision couldn't penetrate the fabric of the nightshirt complimenting her in ways that would have been illegal on Gemenon a couple generations ago.

Because he couldn't see all of her, and realizing his eyes had been unconsciously fixed on her chest, Lee quickly looked up and quietly asked if she was okay. Kara mumbled something in the affirmative, turning away and looking fugitively at the bed. She mumbled something else that Lee needed repeated, just to make sure he'd heard correctly.

"A pillow?" Kara asked.

"What?"

"Can I have a pillow? For the floor."

"The -- floor?" Why would she want a pillow and what did that have to do with the floor? He was clearly missing something here.

Kara's next words were at once helpful and agonizing in the extreme. "I'm -- I'll take the floor -- it's your room after all. Right?"

Lee managed to right himself before his too-stunned-by-half body language could give her the _wrong _message. "Kara, _you're_ taking the bed. No arguments." He added a decisive wave of the hand, which usually helped settle things right there.

"Okay, fine," Kara nodded. "What about you? Are you going to -- _stay_?"

The way she said the last word had Lee wondering if it was indeed the last word. In a fit of utterly blind optimism, he asked, "Do you -- uhm -- can I?"

"I -- yeah. I'd like -- I'd like you to. Stay."

"Okay, fine." Certain all the way down to his heels that she would change her mind any second, Lee quickly absconded with one of the pillows from the bed, then moved to the closet and grabbed another comforter. Because she'd placed no restrictions on where he could put himself, Lee dropped the pillow at the foot of the bed itself and was prepared to lay out the comforter. It would make for rough bedding, but Kara's proximity more than compensated for any possible discomfort he might suffer.

Except that Kara made it clear she wasn't finished speaking. "Um, Lee?"

"Hmm?" He hoped he was quick enough and looked decisive enough that she'd just let it go for that night.

"You can -- the bed's big enough for --" Lee immediately looked up, fighting to school his features to remain calm. Kara was raking him with her own eyes, sizing him up in ways that left him wondering if absenting himself wouldn't be a good idea after all.

She was still in a fragile place and sure as frak didn't need him bludgeoning into her and stirring up all sorts of ugly stuff. Or so he kept telling himself. Frakking her through the mattress, never mind the floor itself, would possibly compound the damage already done. Perhaps Kara herself sensed this danger; certainly her stance had shifted subtly, as if she were bracing herself against a driving wind. And the way she was rubbing those wonderfully talented hands together didn't look like outright anticipation, but who was he to judge?

The thought alone of those fingers playing his body like an instrument nearly had him pitching another tent right in front of her; the chivalrous sliver of his psyche hoped fervently that she'd notice and send him away, even as the remaining 99.94 of him was coiled and ready to tackle her to the mattress.

Unbidden, the images from the photos she'd taken after the attack slid into his mind's eye, flashing in clear sequence like a damned slide show. The tent pole immediately went limp and it was all Lee could do to ask, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded. The smile she offered was something he couldn't quite place. "I'm sure I can _control _myself."

_His_self-control wasn't even an issue as the tent pole had promptly shrunk even further and shriveled into a fair impersonation of a freshly-hatched Aquarian brinar. Oh, he didn't doubt it would wake up the instant she laid just one finger on his flesh. He was _not_ going to force the issue, and sure as sin wasn't going to deny her a bit of probably ineffectual cuddling.

Hoping to smooth the waters, Lee reached out with a confidence that was barely skin-deep and led her to the bed. He let her go only long enough to pull down the bed sheets, then reasserted his grip and maneuvered her tolie down. Kara watched him all the while with hooded eyes that gave away nothing.

Laying himself down and pulling the sheets over them both, another burst of optimistic idiocy fell from his lips. "Can -- Kara?"

"Yeeeees?" Her response was nearly enough to make him reconsider.

"Can I -- hold -- you?"

By rights, he should have immediately apologized and put himself out of the bed. Even he of the tin ear clearly made out what a pathetic and needy shit he sounded like. Kara waited a whole five heartbeats before giving him a sharp nod. His body disconnected from his conscious brain and spooned her with the ease of years of familiarity and practice. She didn't even object when he circled her chest and cradled her head, unless one counted her becoming completely boneless and pliant in his embrace, which had the paradoxical effect of making her that much harder to hold onto.

Lee remembered the scratches and bruises another man had left on her, his whole body tensing with the desire for violence. "I'm going to kill him," Lee whispering into her hair, realizing only when he said that he'd started crying. A mental clock began a countdown to how long it was before she shoved him away from her, once and for all.

First, however, she apparently wanted elaboration. "Uh, who? Zak?"

"No," Lee shook his head, not even registering his brother's name. "That frakker Lake. I find him, I'm going to frakking _kill_ him for touching you." Because he was about to kicked out of bed and therefore had nothing really left to lose, Lee tightened his hold on her, trying to absorb as much of her as possible in these final seconds of intimacy she'd allow him.

"Uh," Kara hummed, sounding supremely unimpressed.

Then she started to shake. Lee could feel her once-soft form tighten and vibrate, something humming through her that he might have mistaken for coughing fit. Or laughter. Or both.

Or something else entirely. Something that scared Lee out of his inaction.

"Kara?" Lee murmured, feeling himself start to vibrate with his own hysteria. Fighting it, fighting to keep focus, he cupped her cheek and tried to coax her to roll around to face him. Kara naturally tried to shake him off, but Lee was nothing if not determined.

"Kara. Kara, look at me."

"No." She jerked her chin from his grip, only to have Lee's persistent fingers find purchase again.

"Please," he begged softly. It had the desired effect, at least in part; Kara shook off his hand, but in doing so, she rolled about so they were face to face. She still wouldn't look at him, keeping her chin tucked down and eyes screwed shut, but neither did she object when he rested a barely-steady hand on her shoulder. She was still shaking badly and Lee had no real clue how to go about calming her.

He tried to engage once again with words; it was all he dared. "What do you want me --" He was cut off by a laugh that sounded more like a croak only the damned might issue.

"I _want_ my _baby_ to be _alive_," she enunciated clearly. "And _I_ want _you_ to _love _me again." She hiccuped another terrible sound, one that again nearly propelled Lee across the room. "But that's not gonna happen, is it?"

"Kara," was all Lee had breath to whisper.

Kara however was in no state of mind to hear it. "Whatever's left of me, and it ain't much, it's yours." She opened her eyes and gazed at him. They were flat with despair and exhaustion. "Just -- do whatever you want. I don't _care_. I'm all yours --"

It wasn't until she closed them again that Lee was able to string two thoughts together, and only then it was to note clinically how urgently Kara was pressing up against him. It must have been her idea of willing seduction, trying to entice him into something. Lee however was utterly paralyzed, still breathing only because his autonomic nervous system was pushing his diaphragm at routine intervals. He would have otherwise ceased to function entirely.

Only once Kara brushed her lips against his did this paralysis break, and only then, it was to gently cup her cheeks in his palms. There was the momentary thought of wrenching her neck a hundred-degrees laterally for spewing what amounted to his ears as blasphemy; but this was quickly lost in the sensations of her soft skin in his hands. The softest, most perfectly woven silk couldn't compare.

This soothed some the ache that was starting to churn in his heart. Most likely,Kara wasn't even aware of her words or the impact they were having on him. It was distressing, if only because he had no idea how to counter them. He hated that, nearly as much as he did not knowing what she _really_ needed or how to give it to her. There was even a piece of him that really wanted to take her up on this pseudo-offer, to just take what should have been his by rights.

Except he couldn't do that, either, any more than he could go back in time and keep Lake from touching her in the first place. That was what hurt more than anything; he was far too late in the game for that.

He couldn't do anything about that, but if he was going to be anything but _superfluous_ here, he needed to -- what? Declare his attentions? Stake his claim? Mark her as _his_?

He could see with sickening clarity she would let him do _exactly_ that, with whatever implements he might choose to do so. Lee knew his head wasn't in a good place to even consider anything along those lines; the temptation to carve his name into her with a knife was pretty damned enticing; even more reason to get them _out_ of this place before he really lost it and did -- something --

But again, what could he _do_ to get through to her?

* * *

Well, the first thing he needed was to get her to pay attention to him, and that meant pulling her out of wherever dark corner she'd retreated. "Look at me," Lee urged her. He added a sharp shake to her shoulder, hoping that would help in the effort.

"Look at me Kara," he hissed with a second shake. This had the desired affect, Kara's eyes clearing and focusing upon him.

"What -- what do you --?"

"No, Kara," Lee shook his head, staring straight and hard into her eyes. "What do _you_ want to happen here?"

"I told you --"

"Yeah, I heard. Well, I can't bring -- I can't undo --" He had to shake his head before continuing. "I'm here, Kara. Nothing's changed. Do you hear me? _Nothing's changed._" He hoped she understood what he was trying to communicate. Something must have finally registered as her expression went blank; Lee hoped that meant she was mulling it over, and her mental triad deck was coming up orphans. When she didn't immediately reply or react, Lee pressed on.

"But -- I'm not in charge here, Kara. You are."

_That_ got her attention, her gaze going from focused to razor sharp.

"You tell me what you want to do and when."

Her expression went from flat to twisted.

"You tell me when and where I can touch you."

Her body language went from pliant to get-your-frakking-hands-off-me. Lee decided to ignore this last change for the moment. He was struggling, however, to come up with something else to say, something that might convince Kara of his intentions.

Kara saved him the trouble. "Stop talking," she quietly ordered.

"Okay," Lee nodded automatically.

Kara hissed, "I said 'stop talking,' Adama." Her face still hadn't unclenched and her eyes were still locked onto his, burning a hole through his retinas and out the back of his skull. But she hadn't pulled away from him; Lee didn't want to read anything into that despite the hope that it engendered.

"It's _not_ the same anymore, Lee," Kara sighed, expression still set as stone. "_I'm_ not the same. I'm not -- I'm not worth you --"

Now it was Lee's turn to hiss. "Shut up."

"I thought I was the one in charge here?" Kara tilted that gorgeous head of hers barely two degrees to starboard in challenge, and it was nearly too much. Lee had to consciously lock his entire musculature just to keep his hands still.

"You don't get to say shit like that," he answered.

The tilt went five degrees to port. "So I'm _not_ in charge here, huh?"

"_Not_ when it comes to this, no."

Kara's eyes burned him to cinders while she formulated her response. "Then understand something, Lee. You're holding onto a whore, a criminal, and a murderess. You _sure_ that's something you want to hitch your wagon to?"

Lee had literally bit his tongue throughout this, although this was the last time he'd do so. He'd have to come up with some other way of stemming the flow of bile sure to come out of her mouth in the near future; he'd endure it if and only if it was directed at him, Zak, his mother, his father, the fleet, the President, the gods, and anything else in creation -- anywhere, but _not_ at herself.

Something in her quick recital however caught his attention. It was too smooth, too practiced in its delivery. Experience had taught him the more fluid Kara's speech, the more desperately she was hiding something. He had a very, very good idea what it was, but needed her to be the one to bring it out; she'd shut him out otherwise and just refuse to hear the truth. The best way to get past her shields was, ironically enough, to hit them head-on. "First, I read the complaint you filed against Lake. Second, you don't have a criminal record. Third, you've never killed anyone in your life."

"You don't know frak."

"I know that you were hurt and I wasn't there to stop it."

"I deserved it." It was a crap defense and she knew it. Lee was nothing short of elated at her suddenly subdued tone; normally it would have taken more back-and-forth in the blame game before Kara would start giving ground like this.

He took a calculated risk and pushed his luck just a hair further. "The frak you did."

"I killed our baby, Lee!" She didn't scream it. She barely raised her voice. However, her utter lack of inflection or emotion shook him as badly as if she had screeched directly into his ear via a PA system. "I killed our baby and I'm going to -- I have to pay for it."

This gave Lee the other 'in' he'd been hoping for. Surely, Kara could see how ridiculous that was. "Then why are you still breathing? Come to that, why didn't you let Lake --"

Lee couldn't bring himself to say the word. Kara simply shook her head and looked away. "I -- don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"I don't. Lee --"

He could feel what tiny bit of control he was clinging to slipping away. It was too soon for them to be having this conversation, yet idiot he had talked them out onto this emotional ledge, both of them teetering and ready to fall. The only consolation was that they'd go over that edge together.

Problem was, such a collapse just wasn't an acceptable option. At least not at _that_ moment. Neither was continuing this exchange any longer; Lee could not trust himself to go any further, and Kara felt like she was half a second from jumping out the window.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked slowly.

"In bed?"

"Yes.

"With me?"

"Yes."

"I -- do _you_ want --"

"I already told you, Kara: you decide where and when I touch you."

Kara glanced quickly at the couple of spots where their bodies were in contact. "You're touching a frakking lot here, Adama."

"Tell me to let go and I will."

"I --" Kara closed her eyes and took a breath. "Stay. Just -- no more talking right now, okay?"

"Okay, Kara."

"I'm tired, Lee."

"Me too."

Kara didn't snuggle any closer, but neither did she move any further away. Lee continued to hold himself still, watching her closely as her face went slack, shoulders unclenched, and body finally and fully relaxed into sleep.

It was some time before he followed her.

_TBC...pretty darn soon!_

_

* * *

_____

A couple terms have come up that could still use explanation:

_Aquarian __brinar_: what we here on Terra would call a shrimp, except full-grown adults are the size of your thumb. Freshly hatched ones are a lot, lot smaller.  
_Sno-Flake: _a synthetic drug prevalent throughtout the Colonial, equivalent to refined cocaine but with ssome hallucinogenic properties.

_Please send reviews!!_


	26. Confessional: Entrance

_Part 26: Confessional: Entrance_

Lee presented himself to the Marine receptionist of the North Wing at 1152 Hours, having been all but chased out of his mother's house two hours earlier. Lee hadn't actually put up that hard a fight and preferred to think of it as beating another strategic retreat.

He'd awoken to find himself under intense scrutiny, Kara's gaze pinning him to the mattress. She looked as if she hadn't shifted a hair from where she'd finally fallen asleep. Her eyes were clear and direct; the only problem was they were surrounded by -- nothing. Kara's expression was the epitome of 'blankness'.

Lee stayed there, meeting her non-expression directly. "Good morning," he smiled quietly. Kara said nothing, her non-expression remaining fixed. "Are you going to speak to me?" Lee wondered how long he'd linger if she refused.

"Maybe," was Kara's reply, tone matching face perfectly.

"Okay. May I speak?"

"Maybe."

"May I say one thing?"

"Maybe." When she didn't add anything further, Lee decided this was as close as she would come to granting him permission. He took a breath and kissed what little hope he held for future intimacy away.

"I love you," Lee said with clear enunciation and looking her directly in the eyes.

Kara remained where she was, her face even stonier. But her eyes started roaming, no longer fixed upon him alone. Lee suspected she was searching for points of egress she could jump through before he could react. Not that he would; he'd been completely earnest about touching only when and where she allowed. It would likely kill him if she ran again.

Actually, it would _definitely _kill him, because the prospect of just one more day without her in sight wasn't something he could survive.

Even so, Lee Adama wasn't going to go back on his word, not as long as it kept Kara safe. "Do you want me to go?"

"Do you?"

"It's up to you, Kara. I'll keep saying it until you believe it."

It was Kara who moved this time, but only far enough to roll back onto her back, eyes now fixed on the ceiling. Lee took the opportunity to reacquaint himself with her profile. The light in the hospital hadn't been that good, and his mind had been on other things at the time. He hadn't been able to admire the smooth symmetry of her nose and cheekbones, or the way her lips sloped to perfectly, or the gentle angle of her forehead and chin.

It was a struggle to keep his fingers from running across those soft angles and slopes. The skin covering his digits literally itched for such contact. But he remained still, frequently needing to remind himself to breathe. There was also the distant notion that he should attend to his bodily needs at some point. And perhaps shift a little so circulation could be restored to his extremities.

But he willed himself to remain still, reminding himself Kara had control here, and it would only be by her leave that anything would happen. And right then Kara appeared entirely content for them to remain as they were.

Caroline Adama calling from down the hall broke this impasse and the tranquil spell within which it was nestled. "Lee? Kara? Breakfast is ready."

Lee silently cursed in ways that would have had miners on Sagittaron, cattle farmers from Geminon and monks on Virgon alternately blush, faint and vow blood vengeance on his entire line. He even created a few new words that, frankly, made little sense in any other context. And likely couldn't be written in any language conceived by humans.

Kara remained expressionless as she rolled off the bed and walked out of the room, not even glancing towards Lee for an instant. Lee himself waited an extra few moments before following. He was in the foyer before it occurred to him a robe might have been a good idea. His badly-neglected stomach however informed him that it was taking priority over any lingering sense of propriety. His hand still throbbed uneasily, adding its own demands; although this merely reminded Lee he would have to favor it for a bit. Thank the gods he was ambidextrous.

Entering the kitchen, Lee felt a stab of relief at seeing Kara sitting in the nook, working her way through some concoction of eggs and meats. She was eating slowly, clearly relishing the food. Lee recalled Doctor Solon's noting how badly malnourished she'd seemed when first admitted; that was one concern out of the way as Caroline was sure to keep her well fed.

It struck Lee that he hadn't actually -- seen -- her unclothed yet. She would need to get back into top shape as well if they were going to be flying together. Hopefully, his mother hadn't moved the gym equipment into storage --

"Lee?" his mother spoke, her back still toward him.

"Hm?"

"Stop staring at the wall. You're upsetting Kara."

Lee quickly slewed his eyes towards Kara. She had her head bowed and gave a small giggle that didn't sound the slightest _bit _upset, or nervous for that matter. Lee pursed his lips and marched to the breakfast bar, picking up a plate for himself and moving to the stove. His mother placed several scoops from the skillet she'd been working with. Turning around, he found himself stumped as to where he was supposed to sit, given the lack of either tables, trays or otherwise unoccupied counter tops.

He could slide in next to Kara, which appeared the most logical option. It was also realistically the most likely to get him stabbed -- which wasn't actually that bad an option as it meant she would have to be in close proximity to do the deed. It was a little disconcerting how often his thoughts seemed to drift in that direction, but Lee decided that was an issue for later consideration.

His mother again came to the proverbial rescue. "Kara, move over so Lee can sit down." Kara giggled again as she slid to the right. Lee decided silence was the better course of action and settled himself. Kara had left him adequate room. He counted it as a _good_ sign that she hadn't planted herself on the far end of the bench.

Not that it was easy to sit there with her barely out of arm's reach. Like the object of his distraction, Lee gave the whole of his concentration over to his food, which only served to reinforce that same distraction and risked re-awakening the tent-pole again.

His imminent death of humiliation and embarrassment was stopped when his mother politely asked, "Did you two sleep well?"

Lee could feel Kara freeze beside him. Or perhaps that was just himself and he was projecting, given it was Kara who spoke up. "We're okay." Maybe she realized it was too ambiguous a response to let sit, or just wanted to twist the emotional knife a little more, as she added, "We talked a little."

"Oh?" his mother hummed.

"Yeah. About how things would be now."

"Oh?"

Lee chewed his food stoically and wondered if all the women in his life had some kind of repeating loop of one-word answers they resorted to, just to make him crazy.

"Yeah. Seems I'm in charge of everything." He could just _hear_ the quotes she inserted.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I can tell him when he can and can't touch." She chewed through another forkful of eggs, not wholly finished before continuing. "I just can't say stuff we all _know_ is the truth."

Lee had a very loud, very passionate debate in his head over whether or not to respond to this. Well, responding was never the issue; rather it was a question of what mixture of verbal and physical correction would prove most effective. It was bad enough that his free hand clenched involuntarily.

His mother saved him the trouble. "Kara, don't talk with your mouth full." Lee fought down the shudder at her oh-so-effective chiding. He was over two and a half deca. Hehadn't lived under her roof for the last nine yarens, yet he _still_ quaked at that oh-so-gentle you-have-so-disappointed me tone she employed. Small wonder his father had pulled out so completely; William Adama had great instincts when it came to plain out survival. He could only hope Kara shared them.

Evidently she did, squeaking out a quiet, "Sorry." Lee felt a vicious, unworthy stab of joy that he wasn't alone in this weakness. Maybe Kara now had some small inkling of what he'd been living with all these years. Admittedly, that was comparing apples to prunes – spoilt, rotten, poisoned prunes – but there it was.

So, too, were his memories of the photos in her file. That killed any other thought or feeling.

His mother was pouring herself coffee when she said, "I can practically hear you over here, Lee. Quit thinking about it." This pulled Lee's eyes up from his plate, seeing his mother regarding him with the sort of steadiness only extreme tension could invite. What the frak she had to be tense over, he couldn't guess. It wasn't as if she were the one risking life and limb with Kara.

Speaking of whom, Kara's presence nearby was causing distraction again, impeding his ability to connect meaning to words that were being directed toward him. She was pulling his eyes and awareness directly toward her again, just by virtue of her very existence. "When are you due back at the North Wing?" Caroline asked him, which Lee couldn't immediately answer because he suddenly couldn't clearly enunciate his own name, never mind a time frame he'd only barely registered the previous night.

"Lee?" Caroline tried again. "Lee!"

Lee jumped. "What?"

Caroline clicked her tongue and visually speared him. "You. North Wing. When?"

Lee stuttered, ignoring Kara's soft giggle, "Um. Twelve hundred. Today."

"I should sincerely _hope_ it's today." She glanced at his plate and continued, saying, "Kara and I will take care of the dishes. You go and get ready." Lee couldn't resist a last glance towards Kara, who met it -- shyly. Damn but the woman was confusing -- and arousing -- him worse than when they first got together. Now that was a period of time which he really, really, _really_ shouldn't be thinking about, least of all in front of his mother _or_ the woman singularly responsible for every schoolboy vice he'd ever indulged in.

"Lee? Go." His mother ordered and he all but leapt up to obey, certain other parts of him having already -- leapt to attention as well. He was quite sure his ears were burning as he jogged upstairs, locking himself in the first bathroom he found. It was hardly a surprise to see it was the same one he'd hidden himself in yesterday; bitterly ironic maybe, but no real surprise.

It was as if nothing had changed in the last 24 hours beyond his clothes (such as they were). It was the same embarrassment; it was just more acute emotionally. The _physical_ sign were if anything significantly larger now. It was downright painful in fact, because this time release was more elusive this time.

Standing under a scalding spray, Lee needed to summon a host of illicit fantasies, hand working himself hard enough to cause calluses, before reaching a climax every bit as nerve-wracking as the previous day has combined. He braced himself with one arm against the wall, fingernails nearly digging through tile as the aftershocks left him shivering.

This time he felt no shame, merely relief. Shouldn't he have felt worried about that, never mind that it had taken the image of Kara tied face down and spread-eagled on their bed to drive him over the edge this time? Maybe he'd finally and completely cracked, to the point where this would be a regular occurrence every morning --

"Lee?" his mother suddenly called through the door.

"What!" he all but screamed.

"Just wanted to tell you: take your time in there."

His answering laugh sounded half-mad, which was only fair as he was completely convinced he was already more than half out of his mind. It would be nothing short of a miracle if the rest of him didn't follow before the day's end.

* * *

Strangely enough, finding Kara back in his -- their -- room was not upsetting and didn't him into a homicidal frenzy. If anything, it was a calming sight, watching her pull an old cotton robe out of his closet and slip it on. Kara didn't appear that calm herself, spinning around and clenching her jaw hard at the first sight of him. Lee kicked himself, realizing how his appearing there in just a towel - a towel whose knot seemed keep slipping undone - must have looked to her.

Kara raked him over visually, eyes guarded again. Lee stood there and let her dismantle him with those eyes of hers. His only move was to put a hand on that frakking knot and hold it closed. She was spooked enough so there was no point in worsening it.

Appearances to the contrary, she evidentially wasn't so spooked that she couldn't speak. "Do you mind?"

"Mind?" Kara gestured meaningfully at her -- his -- _the_ robe. "Oh, uh, no. No, its fine. You're – fine."

Kara didn't react to this little slip. Not even with a blink. Lee kept still and left her to set the course of, well, whatever came next.

Except Kara once again seemed content to allow inertia to reign.

At some point, Kara shut the robe and tied the belt about her tightly, face and eyes giving away nothing. She started edging towards the door, half-a-shuffled-step at a time. Lee took the message and matched her movements, keeping her in sight but giving her plenty of room. Evidently she didn't have nearly enough space, given how she flattened herself to the wall as she moved. It might have been amusing if he didn't have other concerns vying for attention.

Instead, Lee kept his movements slow and hands in clear sight. Kara didn't hasten, or slow, her steps.

Eventually they'd exchanged places, Kara in the threshold and Lee well into the room. He suspected that had been her intention all along. Why she had chosen such a roundabout way for it was yet another behavioral puzzle she presented to him; added to the already extensive list, Lee was being hard pressed to remember why letting Kara take the lead between them was a _good _idea.

The small grin she gave, giving him another once-over with those damned eyes, answered that particular question quite nicely. She said nothing, instead turning away and disappearing from sight. Somehow, this wasn't as upsetting as it probably should have been. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was willing to speak to him now.

Maybe she was giving him the smallest flicker of that nuclear-bright smile thatshe would, once in a dozen solar eclipses, bestow upon his unworthy self.

Lee couldn't keep his own grin nearly as sedate as he pulled on a clean uniform.

Between getting himself back under control and their slow-motion dance in his room and getting himself back under control _again_, it was close to 1000 Hours when he'd finished dressing. There was a short internal debate over whether or not to retrieve his sidearm. Ultimately, he decided against it; there was no telling how Kara might take the sight of him armed right now. Better he simply take the key for the storage drawer with him for the day.

Somehow that seemed his most critical decision of the day; unlikely, but he'd be utterly overjoyed if that turned out to be the case.

He descended the stairs and returned to the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to find his mother there, finishing washing the dishes. What immediately caught Lee's attention was who _wasn't _there. He communicated the obvious question without interrupting the exchange between his parents; thankfully, the angle the phone's screen effectively kept him out of his father's LOS.

"I'm not talking about it over the phone, Bill," Caroline was saying over her shoulder, scrubbing the skillet in the sink. She nevertheless managed to direct subtly him toward the door leading to the library. "_Quit _asking me about it," she added in a slightly raised voice.

Lee casually looked into the library as his mother directed. Sure enough, Kara was seated on the sofa there, a book in her hands and legs tucked up under her. He wandered over to stand behind her. "Kara?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm?" She didn't turn to speak to him, but she didn't sound dismissive either.

"I have to go. I don't know how long they'll keep me at the North Wing."

"So?"

"I -- just wanted you to know."

"Okay." Again, she didn't sound either interested or disinterested. Lee didn't know what to make of it, nervous at leaving things in such a state, even for just a few hours.

"I --" Whatever else Lee might have said when the ancient gear-driven clock in the corner chimed ten times.

"Ten-hundred hours, Lee," Kara observed.

"Yeah."

"Takes awhile to get Central Square, right?"

"Um -- yeah." Lee sighed irritably, cursing his sudden uncertainty. "Kara --":

"Scram," was her command, quiet and absolute. Lee was almost ready to start arguing, but quickly turned and headed back to the door. He paused at the door and looked back.

"I love you," he stated, choosing not to linger and risk himself further. Probably just as well he wouldn't see her immediate reaction.

He wasn't so fortunate in avoiding his mother, since she was practically standing on his heels. Lee didn't even try to explain himself. Caroline's expression made it clear she wasn't having it. "Ten-hundred, Lee."

"So I'm told," he groused.

"Get moving. Kara and I will be here all day, so don't feel you need to hurry back."

"Got it."

"Get moving," his mother repeated, sounding notably testier now.

"I'm moving." He gave her the requisite kiss on the cheek and marched himself out the front door. It took a few minutes to flag down a town car out front. Lee paused again and glanced back to the house. Standing there in the front room's bay window was Kara, arms crossed around her middle and looking pensive, haunted even.

She raised a single hand, as if in farewell. Lee did the same, then quickly climbed into the car and directed the driver to his destination. Again, distance was the best defense for them both. At least that was he kept telling himself.

It wasn't much more convincing the hundredth time he repeated it than it was the first time.

* * *

Central Square hadn't changed since the previous day. Lee had no idea why he felt it should have. Perhaps he had changed or more accurately, how his view of the seat of government power had changed. Once, he had been in awe of it, even entertained a few boyhood fantasies about becoming President.

Shaking his head, Lee meandered his way across Civic Square and toward the North Wing. As he walked, he found himself wanting to drop a nuke on these masterpieces of post-war architecture for what they had allowed to happen to Kara. Knowing now that some of them were even complicit in it only stoked his fury more.

Lee seemed to be getting angry a lot lately, and with the exception of stroking a few out in the shower, he had yet to allow it any physical release. That couldn't be very healthy. He should probably get reacquainted with a punching bag somewhere, and soon. It would only complicate things if he lost it and tried to strangle some random officeholder.

The thought was a strangely cheery one, causing him to have a goofy smile as he entered the lobby and stood before the Marine sentry. It was a different one from yesterday, and so Lee remained quiet as binders were again consulted and instructions were muttered over the phone. The upside was this gave him time to re-school his features to something a little more serious. The sentry provided him with the same instructions as the previous day; although this time, he was directed to the fifth floor and told to report to Room A.

Lee frowned a little but went as directed. He continued to frown when the elevator took him to a floor that was carpeted, painted a soothing light brown, and sported doors of fine grain wood. It was a complete change from upstairs. There was also the small fact the four visible doors each sported a placard saying "Interview Room", with Α, Β, Δ, or Ε beneath each placard.

Lee could only sigh and walk the short distance to Room A. He knocked once and opened the door, expecting to find at least one of the two Majors. Instead was a civilian pouring two mugs of dark liquid from a carafe. Lee doubted he was another prosecutor; for one thing, his hair was thick and tangled, and it was unlikely even the most liberal dress code would tolerate the tweed jacket he was wearing.

The man turned and smiled politely. "Come in, Lieutenant. Come in." He had genteel features and a relaxed manner, two things that immediately put Lee's nerves on edge. The man – Lee resisted falling into the same trap as yesterday – set the two mugs on the narrow conference table between them, then waved towards the one he nudged across the table from where he stood.

"I hope you don't mind my pouring for us both," the man was saying, which Lee acknowledged with a short nod. He stayed still as a hand was extended across the tabletop. "Chapel Brynn."

"Lee Adama." He took the hand carefully, surprised again at the strong grip that encircled his hand.

"Pleasure. Please have a seat, Lieutenant."

Lee sat, keeping his back stiff and straight, as did Mr. Brynn, who leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. It didn't escape Lee's notice there were no recorders in immediate evidence, nor any files, writing tablets or anything beyond themselves and the furniture. He tried not to frown in worry, knowing he was failing in the effort. This increasing lack of control over his emotional state, a complete reversal of how he'd lived the last five years, was getting irritating. Normally he could just drown any anxiety or the like by focusing on minutia around him. But now? His thoughts were constantly drifting back to his mother's house -- back to Kara -- and _everything_ he so desperately wanted to say -- to _do_ --

"I confess," Mr. Brynn interrupted his ruminations. "I confess, Lieutenant, you aren't quite what I expected."

"Sorry to disappoint," Lee replied coolly.

Now it was Brynn's turn to frown. "Why do you say that?"

"What?"

"'Disappoint'? Why disappoint?"

Lee couldn't immediately answer that one, at least not coherently. Therefore, he instead went onto the rhetorical attack. "Can I ask what this interview is about, Sir?"

This actually caused Brynn to smile. It wasn't thin or nasty one, either, but a real one. "I was hoping you'd take the lead here, Lieutenant." He paused and took a quick sip from his mug, wincing slightly from either the temperature or the taste. "Before going further, do you prefer I address you by your rank or your name?"

"Rank, Sir."

"You can leave off the Sir, Lieutenant. I'm not an officer and never have been."

Lee frowned harder and started wishing he had brought his sidearm. "Then what's all this, Sir? I mean, Mr. Brynn?"

"Well, even though I'm not uniform service, I do work for the Fleet as a -- well, a crisis counselor, for lack of a better term."

"Are you a psychiatrist?"

"No, no. I leave that for Vicennte."

"Who?"

"Oh, uh, Lieutenant Torris. He's Board Certified and everything."

"Um, so you are -- what?"

Brynn took another sip of his mug and gave Lee another smile. "I am a priest."

Lee blinked. "A -- priest?"

"Well, I was."

"Was? As in past tense?"

"As in," Brynn nodded coolly. "I was in the Orthodox Temple until fifteen yarens ago."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"Oh, nothing spectacular or scandalous. I just got married to the mother of my three year old daughter."

Lee couldn't claim to be an expert on the doctrine of any of organized churches practicing throughout the Colonies, but he had always thought the Orthodoxy allowed, even encouraged its clergy to marry. "Hardly seems a reason to excommunicate you," he observed.

"Oh, I wasn't excommunicated. Just defrocked."

"Meaning?"

"I can't make sacrifice or offer libations during services. Otherwise I'm the same as before."

"Preaching and --?"

Brynn nodded, easily anticipating Lee's next words. "And allowed to dispense the occasional bit of spiritual advice, yes." He straightened himself. "I've been assisting the Special Prosecutions unit for two years now with this whole Favor's Trading business."

"Why?"

"Why what?" It was Brynn's turn to frown. "Why am I helping here? There are a lot of spirits that have been broken by those malicious bastards, Lieutenant."

"No, no. I realize that. I meant -- well --"

"What?"

"Well, Mister -- Reverend Brynn -- you're a civilian, right?"

"I am, and you can call me Chapel or _Mister_ Brynn. I honestly can't stand the title 'Reverend' these days."

Lee took a breath and pressed on. "You're a _civilian _counselor involved in a -- delicate matter concerning the Fleet. Why would they bring you in?"

"You mean as opposed to someone from the Chaplain Corps? Heh, I suppose they _should_ have done exactly that. Provided, that is, they could have found someone who was untouched by this rot in whom they could entrust delicate souls." Brynn almost sneered. "I'm afraid that list was a rather short one."

"Yet you, a defrocked Orthodox priest, are involved."

"Correct. Like you, I rather blundered into this mess."

"Like me?"

"I've seen the transcripts of your interview with Major Lyceus at that hospital in Sparta. The Three Weavers clearly put their hands to work here, ensuring you were in the correct place at the correct moment to save Lieutenant Thrace." Brynn gave Lee a tired but admiring smile. "Would that we were all so clearly blessed."

"I don't feel especially blessed," Lee groused, picking up his own mug and taking a gulp. The coffee, which had the consistency of drying mud, slammed into his stomach like a lump of lead.

"I've also read the reports submitted concerning their observations of you, both before and after this incident started."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. I'll admit I haven't gone over your full biography _yet, _but from what I've read in your Service Jacket suggests you've been walking wounded for quite awhile." Brynn finished his coffee, then stood and walked back to the waiting pot. "Put bluntly, Lieutenant, I can understand your, well, your mindset a bit better than you yourself have tried to."

"Really?" Lee made no effort this time to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

"Really," Brynn confirmed confidently.

"Then you know I'm an avowed atheist?"

"Atheists are just people who are smart enough to immediately jump out of the way when a car mounts the curb, while the devout mutter a few prayers and _then _jump out of the way. Beyond that, I've never seen much difference between them and the laity. "

Lee rubbed his hands over his eyes for several long seconds. "Will you report what we talk about to Major Lyceus?"

"Only if I judge you're in danger, be it from yourself or others. Other than that I keep my counsel private." He sat back down and regarded Lee steadily. "You may not need spiritual counseling, Lee, but its clear you need to talk to _somebody_ about what's happened."

"And that would be you?"

"For the moment. There are others we can turn to if needs be."

Lee regarded his coffee mug for another long moment, then took a sip, mind wrestling where to begin. Brynn said nothing to assist or distract him in this, clearly content to wait him out.

It did not prove that long or tense a wait.

_TBC...RFN!  
_


	27. Res Judica

_Part 27: Res Judica_

Ensign Sallas Iryn pulled the single sheet of paper from the laser printer by his workstation and handed it over to Major Alac Lyceus. The Major examined the printout, nodding in approval at the list they had been ordered to prepare. He'd had to make it up out of whole cloth; there had been the unspoken assumption in his office that Kara Thrace was buried in an unmarked grave somewhere, and so no one had given much thought to what should be offered her should she resurface.

Overall, Alac had decided to be conservative in their offer:

_*Re-instatement to Active Duty and restoration of Flight Status pending Review sign-off.  
__*Immediate restoration of rank, with Longevity Promotion to Lieutenant guaranteed.  
__*Guaranteed promotion to Captain by year's end.  
__*Choice of postings, subject to Fleet requirements.__  
*Offer of full course at War College within two years.  
*Monetary settlement TBD_

If his cousin had been reading Thrace correctly, she would be more interested in getting her wings and Flight Status back than soaking the Fleet's coffers. Certainly, she'd logged enough time in the Sims and in the cockpit than any three Reservists combined. He made a mental note to check with The Detailer's office about which battlestars had openings in their air groups; hopefully they could get her off-planet for a while.

Honestly, he had little incentive to want to keep her on-planet for any length of time now. Sure, they had prosecutions aplenty, and by all appearances, they'd managed to cage the principles of the Trading network. Closing down the Marshfields had put paid to any further Favors being recruited, but the sheer number already identified was keeping their counselors and staff attorneys busier than ever. Having Thrace around, acting as a potential lightning rod for anyone they'd missed, wasn't something he cared to deal with.

Otto had similar sentiments, although he hadn't been as explicit in stating them. He'd nevertheless noted that she and her family would be overjoyed to have her flying again. Alac couldn't quite escape the feeling it wouldn't be that easy.

It was 1255 hours when Major Alac Lyceus presented himself to the Adjunct's Desk in the anteroom of Vice-Admiral Kennet Waynes' office on the ninth floor. The Adjunct on duty – there were four of them in total and rotated through the various Offices of the JAD – was a chestnut haired woman sporting insignia like his own. Lyceus had to think for a moment to identify her. "Major Valerii," he nodded.

"Major Lyceus," Jule Valerii replied easily. "You can go straight in," she told him. Rank and family names were as formal as it tended to get, at least in-house. Anyone from the outside would have to have salutes down pat and paperwork filed in triplicate to get past Valerii's desk.

"Thanks. We still on for the fourteenth?" They'd had a long-delayed dinner date set for next month and Alac really didn't want to have to reschedule it again.

"Should be." Valerii straightened a handful of papers. "You'd better go in. Picon's been ringing in since yesterday."

"Great," Alac muttered, as he straightened his tie and tapped in his entry code to the main door. The walls of the Admiral's office were reinforced titanium alloy, with only one doorway (that Alac knew of anyway) leading into it. The Adjuncts were all heavily armed and formerly from Covert Ops, so were formidable in their own right. The reinforced walls were just an extra precaution.

If only, Alac reflected as he entered his ultimate superior's office, there was a way to similarly protect their work from the selfish intentions of the rest of the Fleet brass.

Kennet Waynes' personal office wasn't nearly as ornate or extravagant as others Alac had seen over the course of his career. Bookcases stuffed with bound copies of the Orders of the Fleet, the twenty volumes of the Colonial Statutes, and updated Articles of Colonization. There were few personal items in evidence: photos of family members hanging on the otherwise unadorned walls, a brass sailing ship and wooden gavel sitting on his desk, and a pair of antique, short-backed chairs facing the desk itself.

Admiral Waynes was a widower without any children of his own. He lived his job and it wasn't unknown for him to be personally involved in prepping cases before they reached the Court Room, usually acting as the opposing party or the presiding Judge. The JAD had seen a sharp rise in its closure rate, with a corresponding drop in instances of Reversible Error citations, since his appointment six years ago.

Waynes himself was a short, rotund man who seemed like he could barely see over the top of his own desk. His frame was frankly more fat than muscle, but who needed physical mass when you could cause the entire Oversight Committee in the Quorum to quail by sheer force of a single glare?

"Good afternoon, Alac," he greeted.

"Sir." Alac replied, opening the leather folder he'd brought with him. "Our initial offer for Thrace," he stated, holding out the sheet Iryn had produced.

Waynes leaned forward and deftly plucked the paper from his subordinate. He examined it carefully for a long minute before commenting, "Being conservative, are we?"

"According to Otto, Thrace doesn't have much use for money."

"Yes, yes. I read the transcripts. Have you?"

"Yesterday."

"Any idea why your cousin came on so heavy?"

Alac had to think about that one. "I suspect -- I guess he was trying to put Thrace at ease, putting things on her level."

"Her level?" Waynes quickly held up a placating hand. "I'm not arguing here, just trying to grasp his thinking."

"Thrace is a fighter, a scrapper. That goes with what we've found about her since the start. A soft sell would put her off, because she simply doesn't _understand_ it. Put her on the defensive, something to dig in against, and she'll respond better."

Waynes nodded in understanding. "Nice static. Otto tell you all that?"

"More or less, yeah."

"Knew there was a reason I kept him on the payroll." He turned back to the list. "Okay, we'll use this as a starting point. Hopefully Hera will won't call in any attack dogs --"

"Hera, Sir?"

At Alac's puzzled look, he expanded, "Caroline Adama. I read the transcripts of your cousin's interviews with both Adama and Thrace. You'd think the woman birthed them both."

"So that makes Commander Adama what? Zeus?"

Waynes chuckled. "Believe it or not, that was going to be his call-sign back in the day."

"No joke?"

"No joke, Major. How he got tagged with 'Husker', I'll never know."

Alac pursed his lips and decided to steer the discussion back to the main topic. "Should I contact the accountants and get them ready?"

"Yeah, might as well." The Admiral rubbed his thinning hair. "Speaking of money, what about Adama the younger? You have something intelligible I can communicate to Nagala?" Alac silently pulled out a second sheet of paper, one he hand wrote hours ago. Admiral Waynes took this one and read it aloud.

"Lieutenant Adama has been seconded to the Judge Advocates Division to assist in an investigation related to an outstanding matter concerning the illicit conduct of senior officers with the Command Hierarchy of the Colonial Fleet. The Lieutenant himself has no suspected involvement in this conduct and does not face charges, now or at any time in the future."

The Admiral snorted. "Very nice, Major. Gives absolutely nothing away and says even less." He looked back at his subordinate with true admiration. "You realize that Bill Adama, and by extension Nagala, isn't going to let it go at this, right?"

"I realize, Sir."

"Is young Adama with us now or sequestered somewhere?"

Alac checked his watch. "He should still be downstairs on Five talking with Chapel Brynn."

Admiral Waynes frowned. "You're having him talk to Chapel? Why not Torris?"

"Lieutenant Torris is a psychiatrist, so he's more likely to prescribe Adama something for depression than actually convince him to help us." The Major shrugged. "It's a judgment call, Sir."

Waynes snickered. "Good judgment, too. I just wish you wouldn't feel like I'm attacking you all the time."

"You've trained me too well, Sir." They shared a snicker between them this time. "That said, we --"

There was a chime from the Admiral's desk. "Hold that thought," the shorter man held up a hand. "Yes?"

His Adjunct's voice floated through the room. _"Sir, Picon just confirmed Admiral Nagala's plans."_

"Anything else?"

"_No, Sir. No further inquiries."_

"Thank you, Major." Waynes tapped the intercom closed. "Seems we may not need that excuse for young Adama after all."

"Sir?"

"Nagala has been threatening to go to the Adama's directly for the past couple ofdays, just to make sure there's nothing -- untoward about this." The Admiral sighed and settled back into his stiff-backed chair. "Well, apparently he's on his way there now."

"Is this necessarily bad news?" Alac asked.

Waynes shook his head. "Not really. I just don't care for the thought of Duras Nagala sticking his crooked nose into our work, however tangentially he's doing it."

"We could invoke Judicial Seal and have Thrace put into protective custody." Even though the Seal technically gave JAD primacy over what happened with the subject, this wasn't actually codified in the Orders. Alac immediately regretted he'd even opened his mouth, never mind forwarding the suggestion itself as Admiral Waynes proceeded to systematically dismantle it.

"How would we justify doing it in the first place? She's neither a witness nor a defendant in any case we're working. And the extant Seal on her name was strictly a protocol move, thus is unrelated to any open cases, so that's out as well. Never mind it would be tantamount to painting a target on her ass."

Alac could do little more than shrug and say, "Just an idea."

"It's a good one," the Admiral granted after a beat. He then held up a hand brought his thumb and forefinger close together. "And I'm _this _close to going that route."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, Major. Have been since her name popped up on your cousin's monitor."

"Then may I ask what in Hades is the discussion here?"

Waynes sighed and looked all of his five decas. "The discussion, Major, is exactly as I just outlined. We could keep a guard on her at the hospital, simply because the Sparta Police were doing the same and it could be written off as coincidental worry over Favor Trading." He shook his head again, more in irritation this time. "Now that she's been released? I'll take any excuse to pull her in, preferably before whoever beat the shit out of her tries again."

Major Lyceus had nothing to offer, and so remained silent. He agreed wholeheartedly with everything his superior officer had said, both the cons as well as the pros he outlined. As a result, he felt the Admiral's frustration equally, if not more so as he was closer to the subject. Realizing this actually helped him find his voice and find a way to move the discussion in more productive directions. "If we can't pull her in Under Aegis, should we at least have Otto and company look into Thrace's movements after she got shitcanned?" Putting someone 'Under Aegis' was just one step removed from full custody. It wasn't something to be done lightly or impulsively, if only for the expense in personnel involved.

"Good idea again. Task him on it."

"Timeframe?"

"Three days I want to at least know where she's been the last planetary year. Jobs, associations, anything and everything we can use."

"Leverage?" Alac hazarded. He didn't want to think that they might need to apply any kind of legal pressure on Thrace, and by extension the Adama's. Ethics aside, there was the small matter of how connected Caroline's immediate family was. The JAD, like any other government body, was subject to pressure itself.

That worry was answered when the Admiral stated "No. I want to make sure we're ahead of anyone else who might claim an interest. That includes any civic authorities anywhere." Alac let out a breath he'd unconsciously held.

"I'll get Otto on it now. I think he's already got some names ready."

"Off you go then," the Admiral gave him a quick salute, and then turned his attention another file on his desk. Alac Lyceus came to attention and snapped a salute, then turned and left the room. It might not have been the most productive meeting they'd had lately, but at least now they had a tentative plan of approach.

Hopefully, nothing would come up for the rest of the day that would complicate things.

_TBC...in the fullness of time.

* * *

_**Obligatory Author's Ranting:**_ I feel I should apologize in advance, but updates are going to be a little slower in coming now. My wife's due date has been advanced, our seven year-old has become a bottle of lightning, and I've recently 'rediscovered' another long-neglected (non-BSG) story I'm now determined to finish. Plus which I still have continue "Exodus Ends" and this story itself has mushroomed in my mind and I realize now just expansive the action is likely to get. Please be patient, and please please please review so I know I still have interested readers! Cheers. _


	28. In Decision

_Part 28: In Decision_

Caroline was alternately relieved and dismayed at the condition her children presented themselves in that morning. Zak had stumbled in late and awoken early; thankfully his furlough ended that same day and she'd been more than happy to send him off. She loved her younger son dearly and he'd never been one to find trouble, but there was only so much one person could deal with at one time. Keeping Zak from unintentionally antagonizing things would have proven a bit too much; just look at how badly he'd startled Kara yesterday.

Lee wasn't much better. His hand might be healed, but it was clear his head was still far from intact. Between his barely-there expression and tendency of staring off at the walls, Caroline had to wonder what had passed between him and Kara during the night. She hadn't gotten that much sleep herself, too afraid she'd hear screaming or worse issue from her son's room at any moment, and had nearly burst into relieved tears when Kara presented herself in the kitchen.

At least this time she hadn't needed to order Kara to sit and eat. Her doing so allowed Caroline time and space to give Kara a critical once-over as she worked over her skillet. There were no blemishes or bruises visible on her, and she seemed a bit less pale than in past days. Her eyes were wandering around as well, though not guardedly or suspiciously as she might have. Caroline was careful that she wasn't caught watching, suspecting Kara would immediately close down again.

Instead, she fixed her daughter a plate of food and set it before her, hoping her own movements appeared casual enough that Kara wouldn't take notice. The scrape of her fork on the plate was the happiest sound Caroline could remember hearing. Even having to direct Lee and Kara in taking the simplest actions, and subsequently hearing Kara completely distort whatever accord the two of them had reached during the night, didn't immediately dampen her spirits.

Once they had finished eating, Caroline sent Lee off to get dressed for the day and had quietly directed Kara back to the library. The latter lingered a bit and but ultimately went there. Caroline followed her, not to reach out, but instead watching to ensure Kara ensconced herself there. Satisfied, Caroline hurried upstairs and sought out Lee. Finding the correct room, she found she nearly had to shout to be heard over the shower spray. Her admonishing Lee to take his time was answered with a laugh that left her puzzled; what could he possibly find funny here? Probably something to do with this silliness about who was "in charge" of things.

She made a mental note to personally thank Major Lyceus for ensuring Lee was planet bound for a while; it was sure to take both herself and Lee to pull Kara out of the mental pit she'd fallen into. This was only right as they both played some role in letting her slide away as she had. All that was missing was an actual plan.

These ruminations were distracting enough that she almost missed Kara heading upstairs, passing her like a wraith. Caroline stared after her, debating hard whether letting her out of sight for even a few minutes was a sensible idea, ultimately deciding that trust had to come from somewhere sometime. Besides, Kara had been reasonably well behaved so far.

The worst that could happen was that she'd try to run off, not that she'd likely get far in just a nightshirt, or so Caroline hoped. She was pretty sure she'd hidden any dangerous implements well enough not to worry there.

Except of course _she did_ worry, the anxiety compounding with each long minute Kara was up there. It only got worse when she heard Lee cutting the water off, and very nearly had her racing back up the stairs. Kara came back downstairs barely five minutes later, now wearing one of Lee's old robes and quickly went into the library.

The wall phone buzzing interrupted those thoughts. Caroline immediately recognized the comm.-code and rolled her eyes. She began running the water in the sink and opened the channel with her elbow, declining to face the screen directly as the face of Bill Adama came into focus.

"_Caroline?"_ the image voiced, the actual sound coming a few seconds after.

"Bill," she rejoined with icy politeness; pretending to actively hate him made it somewhat easier to deal with, well, him.

"_Is everything all right?"_

Caroline suppressed a laugh. It was either that, or scream her head off. "Oh, just fine here. Why? What have you heard?" The second the words were out of her mouth, Caroline developed a very clear idea about what had Bill calling like this.

She needed to stall, and so asked, "Where are you calling from?"

"_Scorpia Shipyards." _Bill Adama was anything but stupid, and so knew perfectly well that she knew where he was._ "Caroline, what's happening down there?"_

"Again, Bill, what have you heard and from who?" She started scrubbing the skillet, giving the image at her shoulder the briefest of glances. "Aren't you always saying 'context matters'?"

The image of Bill Adama grimaced and sighed, the loud exhale again time delayed. _"Fine. I've heard Lee has been seconded to the JAD."_

"And who told you that?"

"_It came from Commander Tobin --" Caroline_ gave a vocal snort. _"-- and Admiral Nagala confirmed it."_

Now it was her turn to grimace and sigh. Duras Nagala was both a family friend and Zak's godfather; he was also scrupulously honest in his dealings with them, no matter the topic. It made the man endearing and impossible in the same breath.

Unable, and frankly unwilling, to call Duras an outright liar, Caroline resumed her scrubbing and stated, "I can't talk about it, Bill."

The transmission lag must have gotten slightly worse, as she saw her ex-husband's reaction nearly half a minute before she heard it. _"This is Lee we're talking about, Caroline."_

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Lee coming back into the kitchen. Raising her voice needlessly, she stated, "I'm not talking about it over the phone, _Bill._ _Quit _asking me about it." She threw a look at the screen, surreptitiously catching Lee's eyes and equally subtly directing him to the library. He got the message and went there, leaving her to deal with his father.

Strange how easily she demarcated her relationship with Bill Adama now: father to their sons, versus her husband, the two strands running parallel but never overlapping.

Caroline turned her attention back to the vid-screen. "Was there anything else, Bill?"

"_Caroline, please --"_

"Things are okay here, Bill. If you want to know more, feel free to drop by sometime." With that, Caroline cut the connection and turned her attention fully back to washing the breakfast dishes, scrubbing them hard enough to nearly break one of the plates. Only William Eugene Adama could get her that -- that --

Gods, why couldn't she cut completely loose of that man?

Lee spent entirely too much time in the library, prompting Caroline to head there herself, which nearly caused a collision with her eldest. "Ten-hundred, Lee," she observed tartly.

"So I'm told," was his growled reply.

"Get moving." Caroline folded her arms so to not give in to the urge to shove him out the door. Kara and I will be here all day, so don't feel you _need_ to hurry back."

"Got it," Lee nodded.

"Get moving," she repeated, unexpectedly anxious.

"I'm moving," he confirmed, giving her a quick kiss good-bye and departed. She watched to be sure he was gone, and then shook her head in an effort to clear it. As an added effort on that score, Caroline took an extra minute to put the dishes in the drying rack. This small chore did have the benefit of helping order her thoughts.

Lee was now out of the house and somewhere presumably safe, so there was just herself and Kara, and so there was just the small matter of keeping Kara busy for the day.

Checking the library, Caroline realized this would be easier said than done as the girl had left the room again. She kept herself from panicking again only because she reasoned that Kara literally couldn't have gotten far at all. If worse came to worse, she could always just lock her in the gym downstairs until she could knock some sense into her.

To her relief, Kara had not gone any further than the front room. To the front window specifically, where she stood like a sentinel with one hand held up as if bidding farewell, presumably to Lee_. _Something in the set of her shoulders had Caroline unaccountably nervous, leading her to approach the girl with great care. "Kara?" she called quietly. "What's wrong?"

Kara appeared disinclined to answer. Rather she hugged herself tightly and fought to steady herself against some inner turmoil. "Kara?" Caroline tried again, stopping short when she heard Kara's weak voice.

"He's gone for good, isn't he?"

Caroline managed to hold herself still as she tried to process this bizarre question. "What -- what gave that idea?" She immediately realized her mistake and added, "He'll be back later today, I promise."

"Right," Kara snorted shortly.

"He's -- the officers we spoke to at the hospital just want to speak to him about -- well --"

"About what?"

"You, I suppose." Kara's shoulders slumped sharply, causing Caroline to add, "He's not in any trouble, Kara. Neither are you."

"Right."

Caroline resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. It wasn't that she didn't understand Kara's fears, but damned if having to constantly batter against them like this was proving more nerve wracking than she'd anticipated. She had originally planned to give Kara an additional day to settle in before calling in a priest to speak with them; Caroline had actually hoped to have the chance to do some actual research and find one who was also a licensed counselor as well as ordained.

Now she was seriously considering calling the Reform Temple, or the Orthodox Seminary, or anywhere that had someone who had taken vows just so she had some moral support to draw on.

It didn't prove as difficult to draw Kara away from the front window and back to the library as Caroline had initially feared. She actually seemed anxious to occupy herself with something, _any_thing actually. She held her protests until after Caroline had them past the door.

"Do you mind --?" Kara began, only to quiet immediately.

"What?" Caroline prompted patiently.

"Can we do -- something else for awhile?"

Caroline held back any sign of the elation that shot through her. "Like what, dear?"

"I don't know. Draw?"

"You'd like to -- draw?"

"That's okay, right?"

What she said aloud was "That would be -- just fine, Kara." In fact, it was all Caroline could do to keep from breaking into joyous dance. "I actually have just the place for you." She reached out and took Kara's hand, not wanting to give her time to reconsider the idea, leading her out of the library entirely and back upstairs.

She led them to the room immediately adjoining the spare bedroom she had originally intended Lee to ready for her. Like the bedroom, it faced the back of the property and enjoyed natural lighting via a wide skylight as well as a bay window that took up the entire outer wall. Unlike the bedroom, this one was essentially bare of furniture and the walls were a unadorned. The ceiling was painted a relaxing shade of light blue, while the walls and carpet presented in a still lighter tan.

"What's this?" Kara asked, feeling mildly foolish as she did.

"Well," Caroline drawled. "It was going to be a study-slash-office for me at some point. But luckily that never materialized."

"So?"

"So, now it will be your studio."

Kara nearly shook completely out of Caroline's hold, trying to spin about so they were eye-to-eye for a change. Caroline allowed this, only because she was now sure Kara was sufficiently off-balance that flight wasn't likely to occur to her.

"Studio?" Kara sounded well and truly puzzled, as if she'd never encountered the word before that moment.

"Yes, Kara," Caroline stated calmly. "Your studio. Where you can draw or paint or whatever you wish." Kara's head snapped around, prompting Caroline to add, "Within reason, mind you."

Kara giggled, nearly bringing Caroline to tears. It was a beautiful sound; one she'd feared would never grace the air.

To cover this, Caroline took Kara's hand and led her away. "Come along. I'm sure I have some easels and parchment downstairs you can use."

"Paints, too?" Kara actually sounded _excited_ at the prospect..

"We'll see," Caroline smiled, feeling genuine hope for the first time since she had first seen Kara in her hospital bed.

Now it was just a question of nurturing that hope, and making damned sure her ex-husband, family friends, social rivals, the President - and above all her eldest son - did _not_ undo it all with their well- or ill-intentioned interference.

Caroline frowned at the thought. Her earlier assurances to Kara notwithstanding, she couldn't help but worry about what Lee might have been facing at the North Wing. Hopefully, Lyceus hadn't been leading her on regarding her children not being under charges.

TBC...


	29. Confessional: Admissions

_Part 29: Confessional: Admissions_

"Um, where do you want me to start?"

It wasn't quite the opening Chapel had hoped for. "Where do you think you should start, Lieutenant?"

Lee wrestled with his words, ultimately opting to ask "I -- what do you know?"

Chapel's face gave nothing away. "I know that you recently -- found -- a certain Lieutenant Thrace, who had been dismissed from the fleet on fake charges and subsequently disappeared. I also know you had some connection to her that was a decidedly -- intimate nature." He regarded Lee evenly and added. "I also know she has some connection to the Favor's Trading ugliness. Not as a direct participant, but not one wholly untouched either. Is that a fair summary?"

"It -- is, yeah." Lee swallowed hard. "I didn't know about -- what happened to her. Not the -- the details --" His gaze drifted off to somewhere beyond the room they were sitting in. Before he got too far away, Chapel gently rapped his knuckles on the table between them, the sound like a canon shot tearing through a once-silent valley.

"Lieutenant? Where were you just now?"

"I -- uh -- sorry."

"I didn't ask for an apology, Lee. I asked where you were."

"Sitting right here."

"Now you're being obtuse, but never mind. I presume you were remembering something you just learned about, yes?"

"Yeah," Lee nodded. "I -- I read the complaint Kara had filed -- right after --"

"Kara being the name of the officer we were just speaking about?"

"Yeah."

"Is that their first or last name?"

"First."

"And the family name?"

"Thrace."

"I just felt I should ask --"

"What?"

Chapel nodded and held up a hand. "I meant no offense to you or her. I've simply learned not to make too many assumptions." Lee continued to scowl, but directed his eyes towards the mug cupped in his hands. Chapel let him stew for a few more beats then began again. "Judging by your reaction, Lieutenant Kara Thrace is important to you."

"You could say that."

"Have you known her for very long?"

"Since I was -- fourteen -- I think." Lee shook his head. "It feels --"

"Yes?"

"It feels like I've known her all my life."

"Do you know if she felt the same?"

"I -- I thought she did."

"But now you're not sure?"

"No."

"Did you question this before?"

"No, not really."

"So what makes you question this now, today?"

"I --" Lee took a long drink from his mug. "She -- she left --"

"Left -- what? Left you?"

"Yeah."

"After her attack by Major Lake?"

"No -- wait. You know about that?"

Chapel nodded. "I'm familiar with almost every aspect of the Favor's Trading network. And believe me when I say Major Artos Lake was a very _big_ element of it." He paused, seemingly for affect, and added, "As was his attack on Lieutenant Thrace."

Lee felt his jaw clench tight. "Do you know where Major Lake is presently?" his voice asked in a nearly unrecognizable tone.

Chapel simply offered a thin smile and said, "Nowhere you need worry about, Lee." He immediately sobered and asked, "I've read through Lieutenant Thrace's original complaint. I'm beyond relieved to know she's still alive." Lee felt himself visibly flinch at the words, prompting Chapel to ask, "She _is_ alive, right?"

"She was when I left her at my mother's house this morning." Lee consciously resisted parting with any further details on that score. Strangely, this prompted something in him that was starting to thrash about in panic, and it was taking a fair bit of effort to keep it from showing in either voice or expression.

Chapel hummed a bit, contemplating his mug. Chin still down, he stated, "It must have hurt a great deal."

"What?" Lee asked.

"Oh, many things," Chapel said airly, seemingly unconcerned. "The attack on Kara. Her getting shit-canned out of the fleet."

"I -- I didn't know about any of that --"

Chapel either didn't hear this, or more likely, simply chose to ignore it. "Then there's her rejection of you. I'm _sure_ that hit you where counts, right?"

"Now wait a minute --"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're -- uh --" Lee took a breath, not willing to accept the interpretation but not able to counter it either. _That_ actually hurt worse than -- well, he couldn't immediately think of an instant where he actually felt this kind of pain. Even finding Kara's old apartment empty, or watching her collapse in front of him just nine days earlier, didn't measure up. "Frak," he muttered aloud.

"You never thought about it like that, did you?" Chapel actually sounded like he _understood_ it, which only twisted the emotional knife deeper.

"No. No, I didn't." Odd how easy that admission was, even as he was having trouble breathing through it all. "No. I frakking didn't," he repeated unconsciously.

Sweat suddenly started beading on his forehead as his heart hammered against his chest. Gods, why couldn't he breathe anymore? His head was going light. It felt like it was turning into a balloon that just -- _floated_ -- off his shoulders --

What the frak was _happening_ to him?

"Easy, Lee. Easy," Chapel's gentle voice soothed, which frankly was the last thing Lee wanted. That _something_ was panicking inside him hadn't quieted in the slightest. Despite whatever those words had evoked inside him, Lee found its taste and fire addictive.

His grip on the mug tightened, nearly enough to start to crack the porcelain. Lee forced himself to let go of it, even nudge it aside, instinct warning him against having anything at hand right then. He was back to envisioning hammering his fists into someone, _anyone_, the blonder the better.

He was revolted he felt that way. He was elated he felt anything now. He wanted nothing more than to run out of that room and -- find Kara -- and -- and --

Chapel's voice drew him back. "Lieutenant? Did you hear me?"

"Eh?" Lee looked up, frowning slightly. His hands ached oddly. Lee looked down at them and noticed with clinical detachment how his fists were now clenched so tightly the knuckles looked ready to punch through the skin. "What was that?"

"I was just asking if you've had a chance to talk with her."

"'Her?'"

"Lieutenant Thrace."

Lee let out a long breath, trying to process the name. "Kara? You mean Kara?"

"That's right."

"Have I --? Um, I've been with her --"

Chapel shook his head. "That isn't what I asked, Lee."

"Um --"

"Have you actually spoken with her?"

Lee swallowed, his blind anger gone. He couldn't quite identify what replaced it, but it left his guts utterly cold. What could he say that didn't sound -- stupid?

"I haven't -- I mean, there hasn't been much time to --"

"She's been in recovery for over a week, Lee."

"Yeah, she has."

"And you haven't spoken with her in all that time?"

"No. I mean, yes. Yes, I've spoken to her."

Chapel sipped his coffee, his gaze unflinching and level with Lee's. He said nothing for a very long, very tense minute. "I asked if you've spoken _with_ her, Lee."

"I just said --"

"You said you spoke _to_ her. I don't have to explain the difference, do I?"

"I'm – no. No, you don't. Sorry."

Chapel snickered, as if privy to some small jest Lee couldn't grasp. "Why do you feel the need to keep apologizing, Lieutenant?"

Lee shrugged helplessly. "Um, long habit?"

"I find that hard to credit, going by your service jacket."

"I thought you hadn't read my biography."

"I haven't read the entire thing, true." Chapel reached down and retrieved something from beside his chair, then straightened and dropped a thick folder on the table between them. "Do you know what that is?" he asked, nudging the portfolio with a finger.

"My service jacket?" Lee hazarded.

"Your two-ten jacket, actually." Lee's eyes flickered between the portfolio and the man sitting across from him. "That's right, Lieutenant. That's the complete, unabridged, stuffed-to-gills record of your service in the Colonial Fleet. Every memo, citation, commendation, disciplinary note, and sticky note with your name on it is in here. And before you ask, no, I don't have clearance for stuff like this."

"So how --?"

"Is that really so important right now? Suffice it to say it landed on my desk last night and I've spent the last six hours skimming over it." Chapel pursed his lips. "As I've already mentioned, you make for interesting reading."

Lee said nothing to this, struggling with whether to be supremely angry, profoundly worried, or paralyzed with hysteria. There was an unspoken rule within the fleet that an officer's two-ten was only ever examined if said officer were about to tried for a capital crime. Chapel hadn't been exaggerating about the contents, and Lee had little doubt there were all manner of tidbits in there that should by rights get him not just shit-canned, but medicated and committed to some asylum outpost beyond Virgon.

He found the prospect of such exile didn't bother him overmuch, provided he could somehow pull Kara along with him. Given the apparent state of her own head, it might not prove such a tough sell -- his mother on the other hand --

Chapel again neatly derailed his train of thought. "That's a nasty-looking grin, Lieutenant."

"Eh?"

"You looked like you were imagining something -- well, I'm not sure what."

"It was nothing."

"It didn't look like 'nothing.'" Chapel cocked his head to one side. "In fact, it looked like something quite definite."

"I was -- thinking --"

"That much was clear."

"About -- well, you already said you think I'm nuts."

Chapel shook his head decisively. "No, no. I said that what I had read of your service jacket leads me to think you are what's termed 'walking wounded,' quote unquote. You've clearly been holding onto a huge load of hurt and anger, and probably for a very long time." Lee grimaced. "Tell me I'm wrong," was Chapel's challenge.

"No. I'm -- yeah, I'm mad." He grimaced again. "Pretty frakking outraged, actually."

"At who? Major Lake."

Lee snorted in the affirmative, adding, "I didn't even know he existed until yesterday."

"Who else?"

"Hmm?

"Who else are you angry at?" Chapel waited patiently for a response. When none came, he prompted "Your parents, perhaps?"

"My -- wha? No. No. Why would be angry with them?"

Chapel contemplated this, then answered, "Well, there's the small fact your father all but abandoned you and your family for service in the fleet when you were much younger. This would be the _same_ fleet that allowed Kara to be savaged by her superior officer, then discarded like trash. I'm not in the service and _I'm _outraged by this.

"Then there's your mother's part in all this. I mean, going by the transcripts I've read, she seems to treat Kara more like her own child than she did with you. She even went so far as to ban you from Kara's room at the hospital; probably treated you like you were half your age in front of gods know how many others. I'll wager you don't call home very often, even when you're on-planet, hence you're being in Sparta as opposed to Caprica City when you found Kara."

Chapel gave Lee a moment to absorb these insights, ones that he evidentially hadn't been consciously aware of. His guts fairly churned with a volatile mix of puzzlement, rage and sadness, telling him clearly just how little he'd actually attended to his own feelings here. But then again, looking at what his emotions led him to contemplate these days --

The priest apparently wasn't finished. "Are you angry with Kara, Lee?"

"No," he whispered immediately, even as the whole of his withered soul screamed _Yes!_

"No? She abandons you without a word, won't share her troubles or anything else with you --"

"You don't know what the frak you're talking about, _Mister_ Brynn."

Chapel was unfazed by this outburst. "Don't I?" He sat back and tented his fingers. "You aren't angry with her at all?" His tone and stance fairly radiated disbelief.

"No," Lee replied with a brittle calm, a crazy tremor gripping his fingers. He hid them under the table, not wanting Chapel to see them for some reason.

The priest however a completely different target in his sights, one that Lee could never hope to muster a defense or shield against. "It's perfectly normal to want to hurt the people who hurt us, Lee. It's normal and it's human."

Lee stared at him, body back to being frozen.

"You don't need to be afraid of feeling anger, or rage, or just plain _feeling_. You're human and you've been hurt, by many different people, many different ways. You've been _hurt_, Lee. You've been betrayed, ignored, demeaned, insulted, and dismissed several different times. Did you think you could just -- what? You could just -- shrug all that off without at least feeling _something_?"

"I -- I --" Lee couldn't speak beyond those simple sounds.

"What are you afraid of?" Chapel practically barked.

"Me," Lee half-screamed. "I'm -- frakking _terrified _of what I'll do if -- if I --"

"Terrified of what?"

"I -- I've been imagining -- gods -- godsdammit!"

"What, Lee? That you'll hurt them?"

"I -- hurt them?" Lee looked at him with wide eyes, then something that could have been mistaken as a laugh. There was no humor to be heard in it, and barely a trace of sanity. "No, no," he snickered. "I'm not going to -- _hurt_ – them." He leaned forward with an almost ghoulish grin.

"I want to frakking _kill_ them," he declared harshly, planting both fists on the table and rising like a mushroom cloud from a nuke detonation. If anything, his grin became even scarier.

"I want to _strangle_ every officer in uniform for what _they did to her_! I want to drop a _bomb_ on the Senate because _they let it happen_! I want to ram a Viper _down my father's throat _because his beloved fleet is a -- did all this! I -- frakking _hate_ my mother because she let Kara get away from us!

"And Kara! I had to take the firing pins out of my gun when -- right before I found Kara -- or I would have --"

"I get it," Chapel nodded. Lee shook his head, as if deaf to him.

"And since then -- I've been -- thinking -- about -- every other five frakking minutes I -- I want --"

"To do what?" Chapel asked calmly. Lee felt his nostrils flare in answer; he was sure steam must have coming out of his ears. Surprisingly, Chapel appeared nonplussed by this display, pressing forward with "You want to hit her? Break her legs so she can't run off again? Grab a stick-bowl bat and bash her head in?"

"Yes!"

"You haven't actually done any of that have you?"

"No!"

Chapel nodded, then took a long sip from his mug as if utterly unconcerned with the raw emotion burning across the table from him. "Well, congratulations. You've just described a perfectly normal marriage."

"I -- _say what_?" Lee virtually screamed.

"Lee, I've been married for fifteen yarens. I've lost count of the number of times I've been tempted to strangle, mangle, and otherwise tear my wife limb from limb. The same with her."

"So? So what?"

"So what you're describing here is a perfectly normal, perfectly healthy reaction to what you've been subjected to." Lee couldn't, literally couldn't respond to this. Chapel quickly added, "It's _sane_, Lee. All that squealing and anguish is what families do when they love each other. When they _belong_ to each other."

"Imagining blowing my -- Kara's brains out, followed immediately by blowing my own out -- that's _normal_?"

"Last monen I wanted to crack a wine bottle over my eighteen year-old's head because she spent her savings for a fashionable purse." Chapel shrugged and lifted his mug. "So long as you aren't _acting_ on those little fantasies, they do no harm."

Lee sat back down; coloring as the impact of what he'd said -- more importantly, what had been said to him -- hit him like a missile. He could barely breathe, could barely keep himself on the chair. Breakfast threatened to revisit him, which Lee was sure Chapel would likewise tell him was a _good thing._

Maybe the priest was right there and he wasn't a sick animal that needed to be put down. Maybe he should throw himself out the nearest window, just to make sure he was never a danger to Kara or anyone else.

Lee took another draft from his own mug, wincing at the taste.

Maybe this coffee would do the job for him.

_TBC...

* * *

_**Credit where it is due: **_A fair amount of Chapel's dialog is courtesy of British television writer Paul Abbott, as delivered by the seminal Robbie Coltrane in the series "Cracker". I've also left Chapel's description -- ambiguous for a reason. Hope you enjoyed it so far because the fun is just starting!  
_

_Please review.  
_


	30. Decisive Action

_Part 30: Decisive Action_

It turned out there were no easels, at least none constructed; the closet in the basement yielded plenty of wood for frames and canvas strips they could use. It was a tad annoying in light of Caroline's earlier words. They managed to dig up a blank sketch pad, still in the wrapper, from the same closet, as well as a pencils and colors palate.

When Kara brought up the eminently practical point that she'd probably wreck the carpeting, Caroline simply nodded sagely and replied there as plenty of furniture covers they could use. Kara found herself struggling to raise some other argument against her being allowed to use f the studio, ultimately settling on the point that there was no furniture for her to sit on. Caroline's look communicated just how ridiculous this sounded, to the point where she didn't even need to point to the folding stools and card table standing against the closet's wall.

The two of them spent the remainder of the morninghauling coverings, stools, frames and canvas up to the studio. Kara offered protest several times against Caroline assisting her, which were entirely ignored. Within two hours they had sufficient materials to keep Kara occupied for the rest of the monen if need be.

Loathe as she was to admit it, Kara found herself winded and wanting to sit down. Perceptive as ever, Caroline led her back to the kitchen sat her back in the breakfast nook, then quickly and efficiently pulling out the makings of lunch. Kara watched her carefully, unaccountably nervous at -- something. She combed her fingers through her tangled hair and tried to put her thoughts right. The problem there being she wasn't sure what her thoughts were or where they were leading.

Much as she wanted, so desperately wanted to believe Caroline's promises, Kara couldn't wholly escape the certainty she was on a countdown to expulsion again. She resolved to be extra careful when she finally started painting anything that she didn't get anything on the studio's walls; no sense in giving her temporary landlady a ready excuse to toss her out.

She was so lost in such random thoughts that Kara practically jumped when Caroline settled a soup and sandwich platter before her. Even more humiliating was the surprised squeak that issued between her lips. Caroline was a decent sport about it and simply directed "Eat up. You'll need some energy to out-do Circual, Kara."

The very serious delivery of the words prompted Kara to look up with a frown. There were some things one didn't joke about, and displacing the all-time master of oils on canvas was one of them. At least so it was in Kara's estimation; Caroline however sounded like she actually meant every word, which left her not a little shaken. How the frak was she supposed to meet those kinds of expectations? Could Caroline be laying the groundwork for throwing her out already? It wouldn't necessarily surprise her, but damned if the thought that Lee's mother would turn out no better than her own -- damned if that didn't _hurt _in all the wrong places --

"Oh, Kara," Caroline murmured, sitting down beside her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean I expect you to do that this instant." She laid a hand on her arm, which alerted Kara to how badly she'd started to shake. "No, no. I'm sorry, Kara. I -- I just --" She took a deep breath that sounded none-too-steady. "Kara? Kara, please look at me."

Kara slewed her eyes to the side, but kept her chin down. "I didn't mean I expect you to make your masterpieces right now, today. I'm sorry if that's what it sounded like." Caroline was biting her lip, as if afraid of -- what? What could Caroline Adama possibly be afraid of? There was only the two of them and Kara was all too aware of how useless she was.

"How about we just have lunch and decide how to proceed then, okay?" Caroline suggested coolly.

"Um, sure," Kara readily agreed, having absolutely no clue what Caroline meant by 'we'. The soup was the same heady broth from yesterday, which led Kara to wonder if Caroline hadn't spiked it and the roast beefsteak sandwich with something as the food had the same calming effect on her as the day before. She'd cleaned both her plate and bowl before fully realizing it, and in her lethargy failed to offer to assist in clearing them away again.

Caroline naturally made no mention what an ingrate she was. Kara had long since concluded the Adama matriarch would go the passive-aggressive route and kill her with a thousand emotional cuts; with any luck, she'd nick a lethal artery in the process, thereby putting Kara out of both their miseries.

These thoughts, as usual, showed clearly on her face. Caroline must have noticed, for shesaid, "Whatever it is, Kara, stop thinking about it." She took a deep breath and added, "I _hate_ it when you start looking like -- that."

"Sorry."

"Just --" Caroline sighed and shook her head. "Let's just – just – Kara? Kara?"

Kara jumped, startled. "What?"

"Do you still want to do some drawing?"

"I, uh, actually --" Kara hugged herself, suddenly and irrationally feeling self-conscious.

Caroline tried to sound reassuring, saying "You can do whatever you want, Kara."

"Um, actually --"

"Yes?"

"Well, it's – yeah. I'll go upstairs for a bit."

"Do you want me to come along?"

"No, no. I'm fine. Really."

"Kara --" Caroline didn't sound entirely convinced, but Kara was not inclined to give her time to lodge any further objection. She fairly sprinted out of the kitchen and up the stairs, practically slamming the studio door behind her and leaned back against it for good measure. Kara fought to get her breathing back under control, and steady her hands to where she could hold a pencil, and just keep her lunch in her stomach.

She managed these Herculean labors without needing to howl from the effort involved.

But only just.

* * *

Kara spent the next two hours, sketching furiously in pencil.

She'd made the conscious decision to _remove_ herself from her current surroundings, at least mentally. It wasn't running away, not really. It was a -- a strategic retreat -- so she could gather -- well, she needed some space to get her head back together. And that meant concentrating on something _besides_ that walking embodiment of confusion downstairs.

Her plans initially hadn't gone beyond shutting the door, setting up the card table and one of the stools, and finding a usable pencil. Kara didn't try to guess why Caroline would have such supplies to begin with, preferring to use her energy more constructively.

She had no designs or even clear, conscious thought as she put pencil to paper. The images that sprung forth did so of their own volition, called forth from within her and driven by an imperative that bore no name.

Her hands did not stop moving in all that time, each page its own piece, each image precise and complete from the start.

* * *

The six images that resulted, however, seemed to lack either context or scale, or so it seemed at first glance:

_The interior of a great domed structure, giant arches stretching up from a bare floor. Flaming torches hung on those arches, close to the floor._

_A trio of pyramids rising up and dominating an otherwise empty horizon, three moons in the night sky, one each seemingly touching the apex of each pyramid._

_A narrow avenue between stone buildings, their design simple and functional._

_A domed building, afloat upon a calm pond, with a simple walkway connecting it to the shore._

_The wreckage of a bridge, sitting silhouetted against an empty sky and a distant shoreline in the foregroun__d__._

_Another interior scene, this one of a circular chamber, a central column dominating the space with a handful of far smaller ones arranged at its base. _

* * *

Kara ultimately had to set her pencil aside, if only because her right wrist was seizing up and she was unable to draw so much another line, never mind something more substantial. She could only grimace, both in pain and annoyance, massaging the tendons in her wrist to try loosening them; damned, but she'd forgotten how painful art could get.

This had the positive side of affording her the chance to examine her work more closely. It was eye-opening, as much because she had no conscious memory of the dreams that had provided the source material, as by just how detailed these free-hand drawings were, maybe _especially_ given the source of the material, provided she could _ever_ figure that one out.

What was even more surprising was that there was more detail to each of them than at first glance; more than barely-sharpened pencil should have been capable of making.

_

* * *

_

The domed interior is not wholly empty. Two banners hung from the ceiling, an unfamiliar emblem on both. The apex of the dome itself is a skylight, its frame a complex sigil that tickled at her memory.

_And there, on the floor far below, is a solitary figure. They were dwarfed by the size and majesty of the room, and are its center and reason for being._

* * *

Kara had no clue where the last thought originated, never mind why it stuck.

_

* * *

_

The great troika, crowning achievements of the desert people, were built for exactly this night. The three sisters of the night – Kaspella, Karii, and Kahna – would touch the points of the three pyramids erected to their honor as they reached the appointed angle in both ascent and descent.

_The anointed priests would make their offerings at the first, ascending arc. The chosen Oracle would receive the sister's wisdom in the second, descending arc. There, there are the priests and their altar, so very small in comparison. Three of them, as the rites required. The three Oracles, only one of whom would ever speak, were hidden on the other side of the troika._

_As it always was, as it always shall be…_

* * *

She knew these things, these stories completely. All she lacked for were names.

_

* * *

_

The city had rising from the sand like a thing alive. Its avenues, like this one, were marked by the sigils and lettering so carefully carved into their stone. The desert of Kobol grants no favors and shows less mercy, scoring the walls of the city daily as if to rid itself of both it and the inhabitants.

_The walls tell this is the route that will lead to the northern water well, which is used in cleansing only. _

_There is a second carving along the opposite wall, a warning of some manner; its message lost to the desert's scoring winds._

* * *

Kara was fairly sure she could identify the lettering set into the walls. It was -- ornate, archaic looking. Easy enough to find, right?

_

* * *

_

The dome of the seeress stands upon an island created for it. Its weighty columns and solid arches should have by rights sunk it beneath the non-existent waves.

_The angle of the daylight, and the shadows cast beneath the dome itself, make it clear there is only a central dais within. Upon that dais sits a figure within a chair. The Seeress can, pardon the pun, see clearly past the supporting pillars and down the solitary walkway that connects her domain with the wider world. Any who would approach her do so knowing they cannot escape her own scrutiny._

_Such a pilgrim approaches even now, __his__ steps neither quick nor slow._

* * *

The angle was all wrong to know that's what the picture showed -- would show. Maybe her imagination was just working overtime now.

Except -- Kara was sure that wasn't the case.

_

* * *

_

The bridge had once connected the great city on the island with the mainland. Once, but no longer.

_There were flying things in the air that made their nests in a ruined tower, and crawling things that would make their homes at its base and along what little was left of the bridge-span itself._

_Gray, dead waves lapped at the shore beneath it. This was a haunted place._

* * *

Okay, maybe she was just imagining all this. Gods knew she had every excuse to be a little -- morbid -- about stuff.

_

* * *

_

The chamber is a temple, carved into a mountain, on a planet hidden behind an unopened eye. Five unnamed are honored within, five small tributes surrounding a single One.

_The writing upon the single column curves and flows, all leading to another Eye. This is both caution and prediction._

_The Eye is the only color within this image: yellow ringing red ringing blue. _

* * *

Kara jerked back at the realization. She quickly glanced down at her fingers, seeing for the first time the small splotches of yellow, red and blue. Strange how she hadn't been aware of putting color into the picture.

She quickly paged back through the other drawings, confirming color hadn't been used in any of the others. Strange suddenly seemed too mild a word.

"Maybe I'm completely losing it," Kara muttered in mild disgust. She fought the urge to tear the images apart, figuring it would only give Caroline more reason to worry and fuss and confuse things worse. No, no. No need to add to her problems here.

Standing, Kara massaged her aching lower back and glanced out the bay window, trying to guestimate how long she'd been sitting there. The sky was still bright and clear, although the shadows were a little longer now. Late afternoon, early evening at absolute worst.

Her stomach gave a low grumble, but not out of hunger this time. She must have been sitting there for quite awhile if her bladder and colon were as full as they felt; it wasn't nearly as unpleasant a feeling as it might have been. Since she was nowhere near cutting edge in her choice of artistic materials – Kara decided to make use of the nearest bathroom. She left the drawings on the table in an untidy heap and hustled herself out of the room; the internal pressure fast becoming unbearable.

* * *

Her ablutions took a little longer this time than the previous day. It was a relief in the _purest _sense of the word, Kara actually heard herself _sighing_ aloud. She even dug her toes into the floor mat, her digits curling into the shag in sensory delight. A small giggle followed as she realized how ridiculous she likely looked, sighing and relaxing while sitting on the toilet -- probably looking as blissed out as the first night she and Lee had --

That very pleasant memory triggered another giggle and her being warmed in all the right (and wrong) places. Frak, she was probably _blushing_ like a school girl noticing boys for the first time. How the blazes was she supposed to explain this to Caroline?

Thinking of her hostess didn't have quite the sobering affect it should have. If anything, it only brought on more giggles as she imagined how scandalized – or not – Caroline would be to know the images flashing through her crazy head. Oh gods, this was beyond insane: she was practically having an orgasm while taking a crap in the Adama family's house.

Kara bit her lip hard to quiet the giggles that kept bubbling up; fearing actual laughter would be close behind. She was crazy, no question, and crazy laughter would carry through the walls and bring Caroline running. That was not a good thing because Caroline's presence meant having to face still more confusion and weirdness, something Kara instinctively knew she wasn't equipped to handle. At least not right now.

She'd had hours and _still _hadn't pulled her head back together to where she was fit to interact with a store-window mannequin, never mind human beings and _definitely_ not any member of the Adama family. Kara wondered if this was how the first Cylons felt once their shared network hit that magical tripping point into complete sentience; she had two arms and two legs, so why did she feel like any similarity between herself and the rest of humanity ended there?

Did that mean she really was going all crazy in the head? Was she even really here, in the Adama's house, safe and well-fed for the first time in forever? If she wasn't _there_ and was somewhere else, why was she dreaming of sitting on the toilet and feeling like she was shitting out at least half her body weight? It was probably far less than that, but how could she tell from the sheer relief of it all?

Letting these manic thoughts and suspicions flare and then die out, Kara was left to wonder exactly where her head really was at if it was so driven to crazymaking suspicions like this. Maybe spending hours drawing that -- _stuff_ -- hadn't been the best idea. It had given a vent to weirdness she didn't need and couldn't deal with, even if it all had came from dreams she couldn't recall in detail. It wasn't so much that she was scared, but damned if it wasn't going to be hard getting to sleep tonight.

That was providing Lee would _allow_ her to sleep. He could make all the noises he wanted about her being in charge, but Kara didn't dare let herself think it would actually work that way. She wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if that night he finally just _took_ what was already his; she'd put up the standard objections, just for show, but the outcome – more accurately the out_cum, _if that was even a proper word – was never in real doubt.

Thinking about Lee paradoxically sent her thoughts spinning ever further afield _and _focusing them to crystal clarity. Lee was a pilot, and she herself had not been inside a Viper Sim, never mind the actual cockpit, in more than four years. Hopefully, the exchange she'd overheard between Caroline and the Fleet Officer in her room, had some small basis of truth. Even if it didn't, it would behoove her to at least get reacquainted with the technical specs of the aircraft, if only so she and Lee had something reasonably _safe_ to talk about.

Deciding she'd spend the rest of the day in the company of whatever flight manuals were available, Kara finished her business and made sure to wash her hands thoroughly. Flushing the toilet (and, just to be polite, spraying a cloud of air freshener) she left the bathroom and quickly moved back downstairs. There were voices in the kitchen or thereabouts, ones too distant and low for her to make out actual words.

Kara made a point of tip-toeing once she got to the main floor and slinked (insofar as she could without tripping over the hem of Lee's robe) into the library. She might not have been able to make out what was being said, but there was no mistaking the sharp tones involved. Probably something to do with her again; Kara didn't actually want to know and so shut herself in what was fast becoming her private sanctuary. She closed the door as quietly as possible and remained still long enough to confirm none of the outside noises could be heard.

Satisfied, Kara next set about searching out her preferred reading material. She quickly ran into trouble however, as there simply weren't any technical or flight manuals in evidence. All she could find were a few pictorials on the history of manned flight, plus a couple speculative pieces of the future, but nothing she could actually sink her mental teeth into. Gritting her teeth against her immediate disappointment, Kara debated her next course of action.

While losing herself in the past or the future was enticing, she really wanted to learn something useful, gods-dammit. Sure, she'd always filled her off-days with hunting through the Public Athenaeums in Sparta and Yodaita for the latest technical journals, but those she did find were usually monens, if not yarens, out of date. She'd had better material to work with back in the Marshfields.

Kara sometimes wondered, given the state of those libraries and the worlds in general, if there wasn't some great conspiracy bent on rotting the Colonies away from the inside. It was her firm opinion that if the population got much more demonstrably _dumber_ they'd start making the first-gen Centurions look like High Scholars. That was one of the many reasons she didn't watch commercial vidcasts. A diet of shallow crime dramas and brain-numbing game shows, ones heavier on public humiliation of the contestants than actually challenging them, wasn't fare she cared to sample. It was like they were back to the _old republica_, right before the Cylon War, and Kara found she didn't like it one bit.

All that aside, she was still at loose ends as to what to do with herself. She wasn't prepared to abandon her original plan of reading upon on her preferred career, and she absolutely refused to believe the Adama household was empty of such material. Much as she hated to do it, she'd have to ask Caroline.

Kara stuck her hands into the robe's pockets so to hide her sudden shakes. How could something so simple and innocent cause so much fear in her? Frak.

* * *

Her steps leaving the library and approaching the kitchen were slow, as much out of curiosity as trepidation. It was clear Caroline was still entertaining at least one visitor, but going by the upraised voices and now-clearly heard words, it wasn't a pleasant meeting.

"Look, Caroline --" started an older male voice, only to be quickly overridden.

"No, Duras. It's not happening. Not right now."

"Maybe I could --"

"I said 'no', Duras. No." Caroline paused and Kara could practically feel the tension wafting out. There was the sound of a chair being pulled aside and Caroline clearly enunciating "Excuse me a moment." Her rapid footfalls left Kara utterly paralyzed, her instinct to flee incapable of moving her locked-like-steel knees.

Caroline rounded the corner to the hallway, coming to stop directly before her, eyes wide and searching with worry. "Are you alright?"

"I, uh --" It was back to confusion and emotional weirdness. Kara shook it off and looked up to meet Caroline's eyes for a moment. "I'm fine."

"Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

This nearly had Kara laughing, the list of things she _needed_ easily circling the equator of the planet. But laughter wasn't a _good_ thing. She quickly sobered her expression and got her voicebox working again. "I – do you have, um --"

"What, Kara?" Caroline looked and sounded as if she were on the edge of actual panic.

"Um, any flight manuals or technical books here?" Kara didn't know what to think of the gob-smacked look Caroline suddenly adopted, prompting her to add "I want to catch up on my reading." Now it was her turn to wince at the all-too-lame excuse.

Caroline breathed a sigh of what sounded like true relief and said, "Yes. Yes, they're all up in Lee's room."

"Lee's room?" Kara swallowed, eyes drawn back towards the stairs and upwards. But it wasn't fear she felt. She couldn't put a name to the feeling and didn't try. Instead she gave Caroline a quick nod and made for the steps. Caroline trailed just a little behind her, catching her hand on the railing just as she was starting up them.

"Kara --"

"I promise I'm not going anywhere else," Kara assured her, surprised at how she meant every word. It must have shown as Caroline nodded and released her hand; doubtless there was some additional symbolism there, but that was for later.

Kara returned to the bedroom and this time took a longer, more appreciative look around it. She imagined this was what his cabin would look like when he was finally promoted to CAG; bed sheets pulled so tightly it barely looked like cotton, pristine uniforms hung in the closet in a perfect row, desk organized and free of clutter, bookshelves nearly groaning with binders and manuals and slimmer volumes with more colorful slipcovers. The topmost shelf was reserved for four model Vipers, each having been carefully and lovingly constructed and painted. Kara recalled the hours she and Lee had spent laboring over the Mark V, their first project together that hadn't devolved into a shouting match.

This served as sufficient reminder to why she was in there. She pulled out the binder labeled "Mark VI Specs" and seated herself at the desk, opening the binder to a random page and letting her eyes roam where they would. This was her way of studying, the snatching of random sights and things and allowing her subconscious to organize it into a coherent whole. Small wonder she and Lee never managed to study well together.

Her training and reading had more or less stopped at the Mark IVs, so seeing what two generations of development had wrought was actually rather -- fun.

* * *

Her fun continued through the day, proving sufficiently engaging that Kara barely noticed the how the shadows outside lengthened, then gave way to nighttime. Her one concession to the approaching darkness was to switch on the desk lamp, angling it so the glare didn't hit her eyes. She was otherwise utterly enthralled by the performance statistics of the Mark VI's engines, both inside- and exo-atmosphere, comparing the tables of figures to those in her head and envisioning riding in the cockpit once more. Her fingers had actually started to tingle a bit, curving as if to grasp a phantom joystick.

Even engaged as she was, Kara wasn't wholly disconnected from her surroundings. She was keenly aware that, in time, she was no longer alone in the room.

Marshalling her strength, she refocused on the Appendices before her and, keeping her head bowed, said, "Hey, Lee."

"Kara," said a voice just beyond the lamplight. It wasn't angry or unpleasant, but oh so dangerous and frightening, because it had her fingers were tingling again with wanting to touch something _other_ than a Viper's controls. All she could do was swallow those familiar fears and wants and look up; she owed him that much.

She was immediately lost in the eyes that shone so brightly there in the shadows. It was like coming home, never even realizing she'd left.

_Tbc…_

**

* * *

**

An' De Author Seez:

_Have a great and safe Thanksgiving, everyone. See ya soon!_


	31. Confessional: Contrition

_Part 31: Confessional: Contrition_

Lee was grateful Chapel had deigned to give him a few minutes peace to collect himself after his last outburst. The priest had simply drunk from his mug; eyes downturned into its contents while his face a picture of calm and ease. If only his own mind were so easily calmed.

As it was? Lee was having difficulty sorting through the constantly competing impulses firing through his consciousness. They fell into two broad categories: _kill Kara and himself so they would never be hurt again, _versus _kill the rest of the world and himself so Kara would never get hurt again._ He was generally leaning more towards the latter now, and doing so with an almost clinical detachment. Later, when he had time to reflect on it all, Lee would find himself terrified and disgusted with himself. Par for the course perhaps, but at least he was clearer in the head for it.

The silence couldn't stretch indefinitely, however. "Do you know why Kara left you before?" Chapel asked, not sounding quite as smooth or in control as he previously had.

"Um, partially -- I think," Lee stumbled.

"You think." This came in such a flat monotone Lee had to wonder if he wasn't being subtly mocked. It prompted him to speak further.

"She was pregnant -- there was an -- something happened and -- and lost the baby --"

"Did you know about this?"

"Not until I found her --" Lee felt his throat start to close up, the fullness of the tragedy suddenly hitting him. Dear gods, how had gone all this time without thinking about her -- their -- _their baby_? Kara babbled about it almost constantly and he just didn't -- hadn't -- it hadn't actually registered to him.

"I -- I --" he tried to say, having no idea what it might be. Would he try to deny it, or condemn it, or what? He had no frakking clue.

"You didn't know?" Chapel's tone, one sounding aggrieved by this, prompted Lee to look up. It wasn't angry, but one more – irritated? Disappointed? Chapel's face gave away nothing of his actual thoughts, leaving Lee to just stare and wonder.

"No, I didn't know," he added at length.

"Would it have changed anything?"

Would it --? Of course it would have."

"How?"

Lee blinked, feeling certain he was being led somewhere he was suddenly terrified to go. "Excuse me?"

"How would it have made things different?"

"How --? I would've -- would've --"

"Hmm?"

"I would've torn all twelve colonies apart to find her. That's just as a start."

Chapel glanced up, then back into his mug, while making some vague sounds that could have been either encouragement or disbelief.

"I would've -- should've found her -- kept her safe -- stopped her getting --"

"But you didn't," Chapel observed quietly, sounding completely non-judgmental in saying so. Lee found this even more offensive and heart wrenching than an outright condemnation by the priest. It was worse that he couldn't deny the implication, that he _hadn't_ truly tried to find her, that he _hadn't _fought to keep her safe, and in doing so he'd _failed _ her utterly as both a partner and a lover.

It was all Lee could do to sit there, holding his mug in a white-knuckle grip and hold himself in place. If he let his grip slip one iota on either, he would fly apart, explode, throw himself down the nearest elevator shaft, or through the closest window just to avoid facing his failure. A coward's escape, but the only one worthy of the coward he'd become.

Chapel was looking at him with cautious, hooded eyes. Lee pretended not to notice, well aware of it all the same. The priest took his time speaking again, apparently marshalling his own thoughts to something sounding less like accusation or judgment. "What about now, Lee? What are you going to do _now_?"

"I -- don't understand the question." He truly and honestly didn't understand it, which should have had him even more on edge than before. Strangely, it didn't.

"It's a simple enough question, Lieutenant. What are you going to do with Kara Thrace now?"

"What am I going --?" Lee frowned and stared at the man across from him directly. "Are you asking what my _intentions _are?"

"As I said, a simple enough question."

Lee knew it was anything _but_ simple. He felt compelled to try to answer it anyway. "Well, I'm not letting her get away from me again."

"Which means what?"

"I'm going to marry her."

"And if she refuses you?"

"She won't --"

"You sure about that?"

"I'm - yes. Yes, I'm sure."

Chapel gave a low grunt and asked, "How are you so sure, Lieutenant?"

"Because she already said yes to my proposal."

"Oh? And when was this?"

"Five years ago. I gave her my ring and she – I said we were getting married."

"Oh, _you_ said it." This sounded as if it amused the priest, if only mildly.

"Yeah, _I _did." Lee leaned forward and continued saying "But _she_ never objected, never refused it."

"And that convinced you?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it?"

"A few dozen reasons come to mind," Chapel breezed. "None the least of which is her family history, which I presume you're familiar with."

"I know her mother was -- abusive --"

That is like saying Lake Posidos is a little wet, Lieutenant." Chapel reached down beside his chair and pulled out another file, this one only slightly smaller than his own two-ten. It was encased in a dark blue folder rather than simple black. "Since sending in her original complaint and her subsequent disappearance, reconstructing Lieutenant Thrace's history has been something of a professional hobby here. That includes her medical history, going all the way back to the cradle."

Chapel dropped the folder on the table, equally careless in opening it and paging through the abundance of sheets and flimsies within. He pulled two X-rays from the near-bottom of the pile, sliding them across the table to Lee, who immediately held them up to the light. "Note the dates on each one: fourth Metagara 2993 and twelfth Pallasaid 2981. Further note the placement of the breaks in her fingers and ribs respectively." Chapel went silent for a moment, letting Lee concentrate on doing exactly that.

"And that's only the start," he continued after a few moments. "Her physical injuries aside, there's ample evidence of behavioral issues on her part."

"I know," Lee murmured, eyes switching back and forth between the x-rays and the file they'd come from.

"Oh, that's right. Your family took her in for awhile towards the end." Chapel didn't appear impressed. "You doubtless saw it all first hand."

"You could say that," was Lee's answer, tone warning against further comment there. Chapel contemplated this, quickly deciding to leave it be and take a different track.

"Perhaps you could answer a question for me, Lieutenant?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you, as you put it, 'tear the colonies apart to find her'?" He paused and twisted the knife a little further. "I mean, if you love her as much as you say."

Lee was physically knocked back, stunned. "I – I don't know," was all he could mumble.

"Anger, maybe?"

"Oh, definitely anger," Lee agreed.

"At who? Her?"

Lee nodded, eyes on the table between them. "Yeah."

"But anger over what, Lieutenant? At her betrayal?"

"Betray --?"

Chapel merely shrugged. "I'm a little hard pressed what else to call her disappearance."

"She didn't -- _betray_ --"

"She accepts your ring and your proposal – if we can dignify calling it that – and yet has the unmitigated gall to just up and leave you without so much as a by-your-leave." The priest smirked. "Sounds like she decided there was something more important to her than _you_."

Lee sputtered, "That's -- that's --"

"Logical? Rational?"

"Yes – no!" Lee shook his head, furious at both Chapel and himself and unable to form a more coherent thought. He wanted so desperately to deny this too, and couldn't conceive of a coherent argument against it. Kara -- _betraying_ him -- _them_? The thought was poison, enough to make him physically sick.

It took some long minutes before he'd calmed himself and could look at Chapel again. "She was hurt, angry. She didn't betray me." Lee said this with such conviction he couldn't help but believe it.

"I agree," Chapel nodded coolly.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not blind, Lee. It's obvious you love this girl to the point of stupidity. I'm only surprised you didn't -- well, injure yourself. Or her for that matter."

"That I'd what?"

"_Injure yourself_, Lieutenant. In very _terminal_ fashion." Chapel grimaced again, as if catching a whiff of something unpleasant. "Then again, given your flying record to date --"

"What about my flight record?"

"Well, I understand it's become rather -- colorful. For example, I'm not a pilot myself, but even I would wonder how safe a _Ringold Pirouette _is when done at full afterburners."

Lee had the good grace to flush at this reminder. That ill-advised stunt had earned him a _red _commendation for advanced maneuvers, a _blue_ reprimand for risking himself and his plane so recklessly, and a reputation for being an outright head case. He doubted even Kara would have tried that maneuver at the speed he'd played it. Small wonder he was going through wingmen like underwear.

Then again, he'd only ever found one other pilot he would have instinctively trusted to have his six, and she had vanished on him before they had actually gotten to fly together.

Chapel wasn't finished there, however. "It's actually been suggested you're going for a, what's it called again?" He dramatically flipped open Lee's two-ten and pulled out a sheet of letterhead. "Ah, yes. Your CAG from the _Solaria_ suggested you were, quote, seeking a _Deathman_ reputation, unquote. Again, I'm not a pilot or in the service, but that doesn't sound like a compliment."

"It's not -- wasn't." Lee sighed. "I'm not trying to kill myself," he insisted.

"Perhaps not directly, but I've counted six reprimands, each related to some kind of stunt flying." Chapel fixed him with a look that Lee had to fight to hold without flinching. "I'm not a psychiatrist, Lee. I leave that kind of stuff for Lieutenant Torris. But I don't need to be to recognize when someone is in profound emotional and mental pain, never mind that it's bad enough to where they appear to be unconsciously trying to kill themselves to make it stop."

"You think that's what I'm doing?"

"I don't think it, Lee. Your file and just talking with you here is enough to convince me." Chapel sat back and regarded him critically. "But that's not the entire story anymore, is it? Especially now that Kara Thrace is back in the picture. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not," Lee conceded.

"I didn't think so. You don't strike as the sort who would actually be that stupid."

"Don't be so sure." The words came out before Lee could stop them, causing him to wince as much at the implications and his weakness.

"Six reprimands, each more strongly worded than the one before it and referencing maneuvers that, if I'm reading correctly, had only been theoretical prior to your demonstrating them. You've pulled each one off without giving yourself more than a bruise or two. In fact, your medical records don't indicate you've ever suffered any injuries beyond those gotten in a couple bar fights. Fights that you yourself _didn't _initiate but which, according to SP reports and interviews, you intervened to defend your shipmates."

"So?"

"So, that tells me you don't actually want to die." Chapel tilted his head slightly, contemplating him carefully. "Or perhaps you simply want Hades to actually _work_ for your passage into his hands. Which really amounts to the same thing, I suppose."

Lee had nothing to say to this, at least nothing that didn't involve pulling his (absent) sidearm, and so didn't immediately try to respond. The priest's observations were nothing if not thought provoking. The silence that stretched between them allowed Lee to reflect a bit, ultimately concluding that yes, he had been more than a little reckless in his flying. And his after-shift activities.

And his life in general.

But, why was that exactly? Lee liked to think he'd handled Kara's disappearance as maturely and rationally as possible. Upon reflection, it was blindingly obvious he hadn't handled it at all. He'd ignored it, run from it himself, and simply gone through the motions of living for the last five yarens. His recklessness was just another clear sign he'd been left more troubled by it all.

Truth be told, Lee shied away from actually _thinking_ about that period; he'd left her now emptied-apartment in something of a daze, then stumbled back to the Academy, and carried on with his coursework to the literal exclusion of everything else. He'd ignored his father's phone calls, then his mother's increasingly frantic calls, and ultimately answering Zak's desperate call for some explanation for his sudden absence from their weekly family dinners with a terse answer: "I'm busy."

The full details, at least what few they knew, came out in the intervening years. It hadn't given him any measure of closure, as it apparently had given the rest of his family; his mother hadn't brought up Kara again, nor had Zak. Upon reflection, they both seemed almost -- relieved by her leaving. His interactions with his father were so infrequent they barely counted as actual _talking_.

Which meant what, exactly?

Not a whole frakking lot, Lee finally decided. It didn't mean anything because that part of his life was over and done with. Kara's return had changed everything, even if there was no way he could quickly or cogently explain this.

He had been a reckless, suicidal ass from the minute he'd picked up the pieces of her prayer tokens, feeling the dust of them slide through his fingers and back onto the floor. He'd become that because it was easier, simpler than trying to live without the person who was his --

Frak that. It wasn't important anymore.

The only thing that mattered anymore was back in his mother's house, probably terrorizing everyone with impossible demands for live ammo and her own Mark VII. Why the frak had it taken him so long to figure that one out?

More to the point: why was he still sitting there, in that room, drinking that terrible coffee and talking with a man who insisted on speaking truths that he'd been too lost to face?

"Lee? Lee?" Chapel's cool urging brought him back.

"What?"

"Can you tell me what you're thinking right now?"

Lee snickered humorlessly. "I'm thinking I should run out of here, and not stop running until I have Kara back in my sight."

"I thought so," Chapel nodded. "It's to be expected." There was an undercurrent that Lee couldn't quite identify.

"Are we done here?"

"Are we?" Chapel rejoined.

Lee knew he should have expected such a response at this point, but it was still a surprise that he needed to work for an answer. "I think -- yes. Yes, we are."

Chapel nodded. "I'm actually surprised you held out this long."

"Really?"

"Really." Chapel glanced at his wristwatch for the first time since they'd sat down. "I can only imagine you must feel ready to explode by now."

"Excuse me?"

"I meant physically. We've been sitting here for five hours and guzzling this mud Admiral Waynes insists on passing off as coffee." The older man gave a dark scowl at the mug in his hand. "I swear that man is trying to kill people with this stuff."

Lee wasn't listening, feeling suddenly self-conscious at the fact his bladder did indeed feel ready to rupture. He did ask nor wait for a dismissal from the priest, instead quickly standing and exiting the room at a brisk trot. His plans extended no further than finding the nearest head, then returning to his mother's as fast as humanly possible.

And gods help anyone who'd get between him and those two goals.

* * *

Amazingly, Lee didn't encounter any resistance or blocks to either. He encountered neither of the Majors any other officer beyond Ensign Iryn, who shot to his feet when Lee left the conference room. Lee hastily inquired where the head was and went there immediately. Once his business was finished, he returned to the main office to inform the Ensign of his imminent departure, only for Iryn to inform him Major Lyceus (not specifying which one) had dismissed him for the day.

Lee was not inclined to question this good news; he merely capitalized on it. He left the North Wing, careful not to sprint or even walk quickly through the lobby; it wasn't a lack of urgency that slowed his steps, but the reverse. Such was his urgency that he'd actually become slightly paranoid about _any_ possible impediments to his getting home. Lee found himself strolling through the lobby, palms itching to wrap themselves around his sidearm, eyes roaming all about for the slightest threat.

But no such threat materialized. Even the Marine NCO at the reception desk seemed nonthreatening, offering Lee a smile as she accepted his ID badge. Lee returned it, albeit a far tighter and less pleasant one.

Finding his way back to the suburbs wasn't quite as easy as simply leaving the building. It was past 1700, the evening migration of commuters from the city back to the residential sectors had begun. This meant the roads, freeways and tube stations were virtually clogged with commuters. Lee decided against trying to flag a ground car, simply because he doubted he could have tolerated being stationary for too long. Even the illusion of movement of fighting the crowds to reach the subsurface tubes was preferable to locking himself inside a taxi and suffering through the start-and-stop of rush hour.

It wasn't actually that hard a fight to get through the crowds or find a place on the out-bound tube. Perhaps it was out of deference to the uniform, or perhaps he was giving off some aura of danger, but there was none of the expected press from all sides either in the station or on the train itself. Not that Lee minded really; his head wasn't in the best place to deal with pushy civvies.

Arriving at his stop, Lee left the train and stepped onto the platform. From there out onto the street. Once at the corner, he took the sensible step of hailing a cab for the rest of the way. It was a short enough trip, so he didn't have time to worry over what might be waiting for him.

In truth, his drive just to see Kara again was enough so that Lee barely registered an official-looking stretch car pulling away from the curb before his mother's house. He walked up the driveway without noticing the lengthening shadows.

He entered the house without knocking or even noticing his mother standing there. He didn't respond, if indeed he heard it at all, to her quiet statement of, "She's up in your room."

Lee's only action was to take the stairs two at a time, and make his way down the hallway. It was easy enough to spot, as it was the only one with light spilling out the threshold.

The closer he approached the doorway, the slower Lee's steps became. Again, it was caution that held him back; what was waiting for him in that room?

His steps were slow, but constant. There was no hesitation in his crossing the threshold, save to keep his eyes low, using peripheral vision alone to guide him to the bed. He only raised them only when he'd seated himself facing the desk.

Seeing Kara there, her head bowed over a flight manual, left hand tracing a schematic and the right working phantom controls like a piano; the sight was a thing of rare beauty.

Kara, being Kara, was quicker off the mark than he was. "Hey, Lee," she said, head still bowed but body stilling suddenly.

"Kara," he breathed in turn, feeling himself still as well, body remembering that same tone and the energy behind it.

She looked up, meeting his eyes steadily, with a grin on her face that was anything but forced. Lee found himself nearly returning it, but sobered quickly. There were things that needed to be said before anything else could or should happened.

He wasn't alone in this conviction.

* * *

"We need to talk."

"Um, yeah. We do."

_TBC..._

_

* * *

Reviews are love, and tell me you want more. Hit the button, Max!_


	32. Penitent's Confession

_Part 32_

Two voices, speaking in concert. "You first."

Snickers of embarrassment, followed by a nervous pause.

"You go first."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Promise me -- you'll stay here and listen to -- to everything."

"I will, if you will."

"Okay."

_

* * *

Penitent's Confession – Lee_

* * *

Okay. I -- I'm not sure where to start here. I mean, does it start when I found you back in Sparta, or when you -- when you left? It was sheer luck that I found you there. I just -- just wish it had been sooner, so you wouldn't -- I wouldn't have let anyone touch you. You know that, right? If that kid who took your portfolio -- he's the one who told me where you were -- if I hadn't been walking the Embankment that day --

Gods, I just wanted to -- just see you again, and I never once thought about what I'd say --

What happened -- I don't care what happened back then. I think I know why, but -- but we'll talk about that later. Okay? I just want to stay here and -- believe you are here now.

Heh. All this time I was scared more than anything. Scared that you were going to turn up dead somewhere, scared that it would be my fault that you --

Gods, Kara. I -- I found your prayer tokens, what was left of them, in your apartment. It must have been just a day or so after you -- left. It wasn't dusty or anything. It was like -- I knew what they meant to you and what – that was how I knew you weren't coming back for them.

I -- I think I lost it for a while. Yeah, I went back to the Academy and just went through the motions. I don't really remember what I was doing. It must have been pretty good because they fast-tracked me into War College. That was when I finally woke back up and got -- angry.

I tore through it all, Kara. I argued with the instructors on -- everything. I remembered all the writers you quoted, and stuff we argued over, and used that to suggest changes in -- well, everything. It was as if I were someone completely different from who I remembered being. Does that make any sense?

All that time, I never said anything to anyone about us. My mother, she let it drop. So did Zak. My father -- we spoke only two or three times during all that time. It wasn't -- we didn't communicate very well. Still don't. Yeah, big surprise, right?

Strange thing is, now that I'm thinking about it -- it -- things make a little more sense. Like why it seemed like the course materials were changed halfway through. They're emphasizing more, um, creative approaches in operational exercises. A lot that I remember seeing and working on are -- were -- crap. It was only the stuff you and I played on the old GameDek that was accepted. Don't get a swelled head, okay? You'll probably hate some of the names we ended up with.

Okay. I know I'm talking in circles here.

The truth is -- gods, this is hard -- just -- just give me a minute, okay?

It's hard, you know. I've had to spend so much energy _not_ thinking about you -- us -- I just don't know where to start or what I want to say and I'm frakking terrified you're going to think I'm nuts and run away again. Except this time, I won't find you in time and you'll -- godsdammit!

Five years, Kara. We've lost _five_ frakking years -- lost! And what kills me the most is that it didn't have to happen; because I let you get away --

I should have, I don't know, searched -- done something -- anything to find you and bring you home --

Don't say it, Kara. I know you would have fought me. It's all we ever did, isn't it? Fight, then frak, then fight some more, then frak until we -- yeah, yeah. More talking in circles. I'm a coward. What do you expect? This is shit I've been repressing for years, okay.

It's hard for me to -- let this all out, Kara. I'm scared to because of five frakking years of rage and anger that I've been keeping a cap on for all this time.

Frak! I've been angry with you for so damn long -- I -- can't remember being anything else sometimes. I never understood why you left. It just didn't seem -- I couldn't figure out why you -- left -- the way you did. I know now -- think I know why now -- but that doesn't make it any easier to let out _now_.

It hurt. It hurt so much to have to know you were gone -- that you'd left and wouldn't be coming back. It hurt so much I couldn't think or see past it.

You want to know the weirdest thing? The really weird thing is I never actually _hated_ you for leaving me. I was angry, yeah, but I just couldn't work it up to actual hate. Crazy, right? It would only be fair, right? I mean, you must have hated my guts for _telling _you we were getting married the way I did. It was stupid and probably insulting to you. I don't know why you went along with it.

It's crazy. Out of my frakking mind, because I never once thought about not going through with -- it.

Well, that's it. I'm just -- frakking pissed off that you ran away from us. I'm even more pissed off that you didn't trust me enough to stick around and tell me about --

No, no. Don't you dare pull away. Don't you dare think what's between us is broken because of what happened. Don't you frakking dare! You want our baby back, and for me to love you. Here's a newsflash, Thrace:_ I never stopped._ You can lead me by the nose for the rest of our lives, but the only way this ends is one or both of us dead. You're_ it _for me. There's no one else I want to be with. I haven't -- been with anyone else since -- it just doesn't -- doesn't work, you know?

Embarrassing, huh? I don't care. I don't care if you say I can never touch you again, because I'm just -- useless without you. So long as you're in my LOS, I'm okay. I can operate as long as I know you're breathing. Anything else --

I'm not going to lie to you, Kara. When I found you in that hole in Sparta, I had already taken the firing pins out of my gun, because I didn't want to risk losing it. Hades, I'm _still _ready to lose it. Not to scare you or anything, but it's taking a lot of frakking effort to keep myself from just -- tearing that robe and that nightshirt off you right now.

I swear Kara, I swear before whatever gods you want to name that I absolutely will not touch you unless you say it okay. You tell me to go away, I'm gone.

Do you want me to go?

_

* * *

Penitent's Confession – Kara_

* * *

I want you to shut the frak up and listen to me now, okay. I don't -- frak, Lee! You just don't make anything easy for me do you?

Yeah, I ran away. And yeah, I was stupid and didn't trust you enough to --

You want to talk about feelings? You're angry with me? I frakking _hate_ myself, Lee. I _killed _our baby. I know, intellectually, that it wasn't my fault. But I was the one who stepped off the curb that day. I was -- I chose to go see my mother that day. If I hadn't, -- okay. Okay, okay. It's crazy thinking, I know. But right now, sitting here, looking at you? I'm all crazy and cracked in the head and I – I want to believe this. And believe you.

That's the craziest thing of all; I do trust you. Completely. In everything. Don't ask me why. I just do -- and there's -- um --

That day, the day -- it -- it happened -- would you believe it was the happiest I could remember being? I'd gotten my acceptance letter to the Academy, and I had a sonogram of -- and I'd just left that hospice where my frakking mother was rotting away.

Don't. Just -- don't. I know what you think of her. I think the exact same thing, times a thousand. _I_ had to live with her for most of my life, so just don't.

I saw her and just told her -- I told her about us, and that we were getting married and about baby. And all she could do was spit her crap at me and act like -- frak; I don't know what she was thinking. And when I left, I actually wished her peace. Can you believe it? I told her 'Gods give you peace, momma.'

Then I left and got my stupid ass slammed by a truck. I had looked both ways, too, waited for the lights to change. I did everything I was supposed to -- and -- and --

I'm sorry, Lee. I'm so frakking sorry I went there. I thought I needed -- that I was supposed to go and -- say good-bye or something.

When I woke up in the hospital, I can't remember which one, I -- I just knew. They said I should have cracked a few ribs or my stupid neck, but it was just bruises. At least on the outside. Inside, I -- I think I went crazy. Next thing I remember after being discharged the next day, was waking up in mid-Metagara on the Ithyka Pennisula. Before that, it's a big blank, I swear. And it just -- _hurt_ so much to keep breathing then, I couldn't even remember my damned name.

'Course that faded and I got my head together enough to remember I was going into the Reservists and make it to Tauron. Once there -- um, I was still pretty screwed up. So I went to Tauron and just -- well, you read all about that, right? It's not really important.

It's _not_, Lee. It's over and done with.

Stop, _don't_ say it. Just leave it for a minute, okay? Fine.

Want know why I went into the Reservists? Well, I was so screwed up back then that I thought it was the only way I was -- _allowed_ to have any connection with you after -- y'know. I was sure -- I knew I wasn't fit to breathe the same air as you and your family, so I -- went to the rest of the rejects and ejects. Its where I belonged -- _thought_ I belonged back then.

Did I mention I was royally screwed up back then?

It wasn't that bad, actually. I got my wings and got to fly a little. They were even talking about moving me to Active Duty.

Then it all fell apart after Lake attacked me. How the frak they came up 'dereliction of duty' and made it stick long enough to get me tossed out, I have no clue. And after I got shitcanned, I ended up on Picon and just fell into doing aircraft maintenance. Don't know how exactly, or what I was doing half the time. I just surviving, nothing more than that --

You know, Lee. I'd strip down for you. You just have to ask -- ask _nicely._

Not working, huh? Okay, okay. It was worth a try. Where was I?

Oh, right. Look, Lee, you're right that you _told_ me we were getting married. You were drunk off your ass remember. I didn't object because -- well, because it's something _I _wanted. Oh, quit looking at me like that. What, you think I wouldn't object if I didn't want a part of it? I may have wanted to just tear your uniform off, but I wasn't that far gone.

So -- you giving me the ring -- _your_ ring again -- I meant what I said last night, Lee: I'm yours. Always have been. But -- I have to -- to tell you something, so just stay right there, okay? Just -- hear me out and don't say anything. Don't touch either. Swear it. Okay.

When I was -- when you found me -- I was ready to give up and just die. I'd lost the portfolio you gave me and it -- that was it. It felt like I'd lost my only connection to you. Stupid, right? I mean, I still had your ring and the pictures. But -- whoever the frakkers were, they were just the final straw. The only thing that kept me going after -- I needed to see you. I needed to see _both_ of you. I was just dragging myself into that hole just so I could look at the pictures I had one last time. After that, if you hadn't been there -- I'd have just laid down and let go.

So, right now, sitting here -- I don't know. I don't know what I'm thinking or what I want. Your mom confuses the frak out of me -- frak.

Frak frak frak frak frak!

_Look at me_, Lee. I'm a frakked up washout. I can't get hired for shit, I'll never fly again, I'm an embarrassment to the uniform -- I even managed to kill our baby without meaning to.

Am I really what you want?

_

* * *

Lee_

* * *

You are all I want, Kara.

I told you, I'm useless without you. I've been stupid and reckless in the cockpit, and totally absent outside of it. I know that about myself, I don't like it, but I don't have a reason to stop it. I have _nothing and no one to go home to._

And yeah, I remember that night when I gave you the ring. And everything, _everything_ I said that night still stands. The only reason I fly as well as I do is that you were there, challenging me to be better than I was. Call me greedy, but I _need _you.

Oh, and the bits about my wanting the rest of the worlds to know how great _you_ really are? That still stands too.

_Karissa Thrace Adama_ has really good ring to it, doesn't it?

_

* * *

Kara_

* * *

So does _Leland Joseph Adama Thrace_.

What? You think I _didn't_ know your full name? Your mom told me when we were planning your sixteenth birthday. Yeah, both of us planned _that _one.

Tell you what. I'll let you call me Karissa if you start letting people call you Leland.

* * *

Not funny, Kara.

* * *

Do you see me laughing, Lee? And you never answered my question from before.

* * *

Which one?

* * *

You sure you want someone as _damaged_ as yours truly hitched to you? I should warn you, I'm big on keeping to the Sacraments and I don't believe in divorce.

* * *

What part of "you're all I want, Kara" needs explaining?

And for the record, I may not give service to the gods or sacraments like you do, but don't think for one second I'm ever leaving your six _unless_ I've been shot down first. In which case, I'll come back to haunt your ass -- and make frakking sure you don't try joining me. If Hades wants to object, I'll happily take it up with him personally.

* * *

You're insane.

* * *

Maybe. Does it matter?

* * *

Neh. A frak-up and a lunatic.

* * *

Perfect for each other, aren't we?

_TBC..._

**

* * *

De Author Seez: **_The c-section is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Hopefully I'll have good news to offer afterwards. A few prayers would be welcome._

_A few reviews wouldn't be unwelcome either. I wouldn't turn away an update to "Speaks Softly, Without Regret" or "Works in Progress" either. Yes, I'm shameless. _

_Honesty compels me to note the idea of Kara's full name being 'Karissa' is not my own. I owe it expressly to author kiss1971's brilliant "State of Delusion". Check it out at .net/s/3425834/1/State_of_Delusion I apologize for it taking so long to recognize this invaluable contribution._


	33. The Fourth Fury

_Part 33: The Fourth Fury_

Caroline had restrained herself from following Kara beyond the foot of the stairs, waiting there only long enough to hear the door to the studio click shut. She'd decided she would give Kara a few hours to herself, and then call her for dinner. Of course, she would have to listen carefully for the front or back doors opening as well. Much as it pained her to admit, Caroline knew the girl wasn't in the calmest frame of mind and still might pull another runner.

Then again, it was equally likely Kara would happily spend the remainder of the monen sketching and drawing until her fingers fell off. Certainly, going through the art supplies had been the most animated Kara had been since Lee found her. She'd actually seemed _happy_, and that was a truly precious sight.

It was a true shame that Kara wouldn't be staying and concentrate simply on her art. But flying on the edge was in her blood, every bit as much as it was in Bill's and Lee's. Dismaying as this was to her, Caroline was resolved she would never again try to force the girl into a role not her own choice.

The last time she'd done so had cause more than enough damage.

* * *

"_I feel like a frakking idiot," Kara groused, trying (unsuccessfully) to adjust the shoulder straps of her sundress._

"_They're supposed to rest low on your shoulders, Kara," Caroline hissed, patience strained to breaking by the girl's non-stop commentary against both the dress and having to attend this charity function. These afternoon functions were where she did much of her business, and thus were something Kara was sure to be taking part in after the wedding. _

_Then again, given that debacle last season with Althea and Maat, perhaps keeping Kara at arm's length wasn't such a bad idea. Her charm was a tad rough, and definitely an __acquired__ taste._

"_Caroline?" a high-pitched, nasally voice called from across the garden. Caroline recognized the voice immediately, torn between grimacing in further annoyance and the instinct to smile politely. The latter proved __slightly__stronger, having been all but pounded into her head since early age. She noted Kara was less restrained in her reaction, grimacing _and_snorting as the white-haired elder sauntered over to them. Aleece Leanar was the definition of 'old money', proudly tracing her lineage to clear back to the Landing and never allowing anyone to forget it._

_Kara didn't make nearly as much an effort to hide her distaste; likely she didn't even know who Aleece was and probably wouldn't recognize the name. Caroline flirted with the idea of introducing the two formally, but quickly dismissed it. Annoying Leanar, while sure to prove amusing, was likely to cause her more long-term problems than it was worth._

"_Kara? Why don't you refresh our glasses?" Kara seemed most amenable to the suggestion, taking the offered glass and sauntered her way to the bar across the green. Caroline watched after her, and then turned directly to face Aleece._

"_Hullo, Al," she greeted the elder, giving an air-kiss by her cheek._

"_You're looking radiant," Aleece stated._

"_Thank you. You're looking lighter yourself."_

"_Hmm, had some touch-ups done."_

"_Oh? Doctor Ballard again?"_

"_No, no. The new chap at Memorial. Bamber."_

_Caroline frowned, not immediately recognizing the name. For lack of anything better to say, she observed, "Well -- I can see he does decent work."_

"_That he does. That he does." Aleece looked towards the bar. "Is that Lee's mutt?"_

_The word was too crude, too ugly, Caroline was certain she'd misheard. "Excuse me?"_

"_The mongrel you took in a few yarens back. I heard your oldest had taken a shine to her."_

"_That's one way of putting it --" _

_Caroline felt her voice die out, realization hitting her like a brick to the head. Dear gods, had she used those -- those same words to describe Kara? Had she really been so thoughtless? _

_She gave a bitter snicker. Hardly thoughtless to describe the girl for what she was. And yes, Lee had clearly taken a 'shine' to her, although it shouldn't have nearly been a surprise. The girl had been practically co-habitating with them for the last three yarens. There were mornings Caroline was dearly tempted to start charging her rent._

_Kara suddenly reappeared at her elbow, drinks in hand. Aleece gave her a frosty once-over then turned an expectant eyebrow up toward Caroline. When no introduction was forthcoming, the older woman gave a curt nod and turned away. Caroline could only sigh in irritation; complications like this she really didn't need._

"_Caroline?" Kara asked._

"_Hmm?"_

"_Did you guys ever have a dog?"_

_This got Caroline's attention. "What?" _

"_A couple of biddies over by the bar were talking about a mutt Lee had."_

"_They -- were?" Caroline fought to school her features to simple puzzlement, knowing she was likely giving too much away. Kara gave her a strange look, as if trying to puzzle out something sitting before her. Her eyes narrowed slightly and Caroline braced for an explosion._

_Kara shocked her when she just shrugged and muttered, "I think I'll head home." It wasn't a request or a suggestion, and she wasn't shy about setting her drink down on the nearby table _sans_ a coaster. Caroline and anyone else looking would have picked up on the subtle-as-a-brick infraction. Tongues would be wagging as soon as they were both out of earshot._

_Dammit, Caroline cursed to herself as Kara sauntered off. Couldn't the girl just _try_to__cool it with the iconoclasms for a change? Did she always have to be so -- so _there?

_All Caroline could do was shake her head and hope her obvious disapproval of __Kara's__ behavior would smooth enough feelings so this excursion would not turn out a complete waste of time._

* * *

Caroline allowed herself a bitter chuckle at the memory.

The years since had amply demonstrated what the _real_ waste of time was. The fact she'd never actually called any of those social mavens out on their treatment of Kara and Lee was but another shame heaped upon all the rest. And she fancied herself so strong and able. What a laugh _that_ was.

But shame was useless now, wasn't it? Kara had always deserved better than what she'd received, certainly more than anything Caroline herself had offered. Little epiphanies like that were easy enough. Ensuring they became something more concrete was the real test, one Caroline Olympiaz Darden Adama was resolved would be met and won. She'd count herself blessed by the Three Fates themselves if Kara would allow her to just attend the wedding. Anything she would allow would be a further blessing, one Caroline knew she'd likely spend the remainder of her life working to be worthy of.

In the meanwhile, Caroline was damned if she'd let anything touch her girl uninvited.

This brought another thought to mind, something Caroline had taken pains _not_ to think of over the last three years. Something that could well heal the unconscious breach between herself and Kara -- or widen it to the point of being permanent. Caroline hesitated only a minute, then hurried to her ground-floor study.

There was a safe sunk into the study's floor under the wide desk. Bill would keep his 'important' papers in there from time to time. Since the divorce, Caroline used it for what she considered 'confidential junk'. That meant papers that were too embarrassing or personal to just leave sitting out, but hardly important enough to take up space in any of the secure deposit spaces she had in either the National Exchange on Picon or First Emigrant Bank on Tauron.

Kneeling down and twisting the dial lock, Caroline unlocked the safe and grimaced with the effort needed top pull open the steel door. Was it just her or was the damned thing getting heavier? Shaking her head, she reached down and rooted around, going by touch and memory alone. She quickly found her target and pulled out a thick file folder, its covers bound shut with rubber bands that looked ready to burst.

Carefully pulling it out so as not to spill its contents everywhere, Caroline gently settled it onto the desktop and tugged on the frayed bands holding it closed. The dry rubber cracked and came apart easily. She stood there and stared down at the weathered cardstock covers, feeling herself color with a shame most personal.

Her hand hovered over the cover for several seconds, shaking ever so slightly with indecision. It clenched into a loose fist, then unclenched with equal uncertainty. She hadn't so much as touched this packet since her hired investigator had delivered it three and a half yarens ago. No one, least of all Lee, knew anything about this folder or the story behind it. Bill likely suspected, but he'd wisely held his interest as casually concealed as a professional cardsharp did Full Colors.

That was sure to change now. It was just a question of how to bring it out. That little puzzle was enough to cause Caroline to blank out the next several hours as scenario after scenario spun themselves through her mind, their consequences playing out to her mind's eye and becoming increasingly disastrous with each iteration.

The fact she knew they were nothing but her overworked imagination - even the crazed prospect of Kara having a restraining order sworn out against her - made any of it any more likely than her being simply disowned her by her elder children. This knowledge didn't make just the prospects and possibilities any less unsettling.

Therefore, Caroline continued to sit there, staring a folder she hadn't looked at in three yarens but whose contents she could catalogue chapter and verse.

* * *

She barely heard, never mind acknowledged the chime of the front door. It was more ingrained habit than actual thought that drew her out of the office and to the main foyer. When she finally reach there and pulled the door fully open, Caroline was sufficiently back in the here-and-now that she could respond politely to her unexpected caller. "Hello, Duras," she said, managing to keep herself from openly sneering.

"Caroline," Admiral Duras Negala nodded in reply. "Can I come in?"

"I don't know. Can you?" This came out a little more tartly than she'd intended, but Caroline found it hard not to strike out so.

"Coffee?" the Admiral asked as an opening negotiation.

Caroline recognized this and decided she didn't have the patience to play the game. "One cup," was her first and only offer. Negala nodded in acceptance and she stood aside, allowing him to enter. Caroline took a quick look down the drive and confirmed there was only his ground car and driver in evidence. It occurred to her that if there were anything of the Traders network left, they would surely be watching the comings and goings of a high-level player like Duras. And if they'd been watching for Kara's name popping up anywhere --

She shook her head clear of such thoughts, not needing the distraction. Instead, she trailed after Negala, subtly herding him into the kitchen and pouring them coffee that was several hours cold. She didn't offer him a chair or anywhere to sit down, and Negala again took the hint and simply leaned against the countertop. He cradled the mug she handed him and glanced here and there, as if searching out something.

"What do you want here, Duras?" Caroline asked tiredly. And she was tired; she'd barely slept through the night, constantly starting awake, panicked at phantom screams from down the hall that never materialized. Lee barely functioning and Kara looking ready to bolt hadn't helped any.

"I put an inquiry to Admiral Waynes in the North Wing."

"About?" _As if I didn't know_, Caroline snickered silently.

"Lee's sudden reassignment." He took a sip of the stale coffee, fighting down a grimace. "You heard about that?"

"Yes."

"Ah," Negala nodded. "You have some idea what's behind it then?"

"Don't you?" Caroline rejoined. She'd learned a thing or three from pretending to ignore her father-in-law's various arguments with her own father. It had come in handy in her own disaster of a marriage.

"Well, I've gotten a rather -- odd response from the North Wing."

"Really?" Caroline really had no interest in whatever line of static Kennet Waynes saw fit to spin. She resolved to dig out Joe Adama's little phone book and figure out who she could call to make sure her children didn't get buried and burned by whatever was coming.

Negala was saying something to her, something she didn't immediately catch. "I'm sorry?"

"Is she here?"

Caroline hesitated a beat before she asked, "Who?"

"Caroline, please."

"If you already know where 'she' is," Caroline intoned smoothly, mimicking quotation marks as she did. "If you already know that, why ask the question?"

"Because, contrary to what Bill might have told you --"

"I haven't talked to Bill about anything lately." She swallowed hard and held Nagala's eyes as she spoke this little white lie. It was her hope this would prove sufficient to keep him from noticing how unsteady her hands and knees suddenly became.

"I didn't mean --" Negala shook his head and gulped down the rest of his coffee, grimacing as he did. He sighed and started again. "Caroline, no one is more relieved that she's still alive than I am --"

Caroline snorted indelicately. "I seriously doubt that."

"Okay, fair enough. I'm sure you and Lee are over the moons."

"Damn right." She set her own untouched mug aside and folded her arms. "You can forget about coming anywhere within a thousand metras of her for the time being. Not until I, and whoever I get to represent her, are happy with whatever the fleet decides to offer."

"Caroline, I'm not here to pressure her --"

"As Bill is so fond of saying, I'm calling bullshit." She narrowed her eyes and sneered. "You've got all the manners of a -- a Leonine soiler ape when it comes to this crap. I know perfectly well whose office 'encouraged' both the Edmunsons _and _Careels to take the settlements offered." She decisively marched over and took the mug from the older man's hand. "It's not going to happen this time."

"Look, Caroline --" His tone took a harder quality now, which nearly matched that of her ex-husband's when similarly angered.

And, as with her ex-husband, Caroline felt her resolve harden into a solid wall. "No, Duras. It's not happening. Not right now."

"Maybe I could --"

"I said 'no', Duras. No." There was no external sign or noise, but Caroline _sensed _another presence all the same. She quickly and clearly stated "Excuse me a moment." Then quit the kitchen in a quick series of stiff strides; she could only hope Negala would read this as her needing space to calm down, rather than going to speak to the source of their disagreement directly.

She rounded the corner quickly, shortening her steps so as not to spook the already-clearly-spooked Kara any worse. Caroline stopped a good arm's length away, eyes searching the girl over for any outward sign of injury or distress. "Are you alright?" she asked as calmly as she was able.

It took Kara a few beats to stumble out, "I, uh -- I'm fine."

"Are you hungry? Do you need anything?" The words fell out before Caroline could control or hold them back. Hadn't she just told Negala there was no way he was seeing Kara? What if Kara really was hungry again? How was she supposed to keep the two of them separated then?

Kara looked ready to laugh or cry out at this, but instead have her a steady look and asked "I – do you have, um --"

"What, Kara?" It was all Caroline could do to keep from crying herself.

"Um, any flight manuals or technical books here? I want to catch up on my reading." Caroline caught the small wince that accompanied this, but could only breathe out a relieved breath as a response. Surprise overrode nearly everything else.

"Yes. Yes, they're all up in Lee's room."

"Lee's room?" Kara swallowed and looked over her shoulder with a -- curious look. Then she nodded to herself, turned and was about to ascend the steps when Caroline reached out and lightly grasped Kara's hand.

"Kara --"

Kara once again surprised her. "I promise I'm not going anywhere else." Caroline offered no resistance as Kara slipped from her loose grip and hurried back upstairs. There was the sense of something having changed in the air, something Caroline would have been hard-pressed to dare to name out of fear she would be proven wrong and her hopes unfounded.

But Kara had made a promise; it was time to see what her word was worth. All Caroline could do was return to the kitchen and do her level best to keep as much distance between her guests as possible. Probably just as well that Lee wasn't home yet; she had no desire to see her son's loyalties tested right now. Likely as not he'd take one look at Duras -- and try shoving his cherished wings down the Admiral's throat. Literally.

Shaking her head at that oh-so-happy image, Caroline returned to the kitchen and busied herself pouring out the remainder of the morning's coffee. This gave her an excuse to _not_look in Negala's direction for a few moments while she tried to formulate a new approach; her little fantasy Lee's reaction gave her serious incentive to get the man out of there aye-sap.

Negala didn't seem inclined to give her the time to think anything up. "Caroline? I'm sorry if I'm coming on heavy here --"

"Do you have any other approach, Duras?" she asked irritably.

"Fair point," the admiral chuckled.

Caroline observed dryly, "The worlds must be ending if Duras Negala is admitting to a personal failing." She honestly tried to feel a spark of sympathy for this mockery, but nothing of the sort came out. Reflecting upon her life, Caroline could easily count out a hundred different incidents where she'd cut another off at the knees with nothing more than well-placed remark. She seriously considered adding to this count, if only to drive Negala out of her sight and house for the moment.

Ultimately, she decided against such a move. Her children deserved better than a mother who resorted to such things; enduring and deflecting Duras Negala for a little while seemed a reasonable exchange for a start there.

Ironically, the only thing Caroline could think might keep Negala distracted from Lee and Kara was -- well, Lee and Kara. Here was where a lifetime of talking _around_issues came in handy. "I suppose I should apologize myself, Duras." She pierced him with a glare, stopping any response cold. "I should, but I won't."

"I -- didn't think you would," he admitted.

"Given circumstances, _Admiral_? I'm not even sure why I'm letting Lee talk to the JAD without representation."

This caused Negala to pause and frown. "You don't think Waynes is trying to build some kind of leverage --?"

Caroline snickered harshly. "This is Kennet Waynes we're talking about, Duras. _Everything _is always 'on the record' and fodder for the next deposition." For distraction, and a measure of liquid courage, she hastily refilled her mug and took a quick draft. "We'll be lucky if we aren't all dragged into the North Wing for a deca of testimony, just for the fact we're all _family._" She snorted. "The horror."

"Are you trying to be insulting?"

"What do you think?"

"I think if you were _really_worried that Lee and Thrace were at hazard, from Waynes or me or anyone in uniform -- if you even suspected it, you'd have already called in at least a dozen litigators and buried the North Wing _and_ me in legal paper."

Caroline shrugged. "Can't argue with that."

"So can we dispense with the posturing here?"

"I don't know, Duras. Can we?"

"I'm not the enemy here, Caroline. To you, Lee or Thrace."

"You're in uniform, wear Admiral's Stars, and haven't been that vigorous in clearing out the crap that made up that frakking network that nearly killed my daughter." She took another draft of the cold coffee and sneered. "As far as I'm concerned, you're not much better than any of the Traders." She paused, and then added, "At least you haven't proved yourself much better. I'm open to being proven wrong there."

"Isn't that what's known as 'proving a negative'? How do you suggest I do that?"

"You can start by staying the frak away from my children until otherwise invited."

The admiral appeared to consider it. "Invited by whom, exactly?"

"Take a guess." Caroline had to mentally count to ten, no longer willing to fence with him and wondering what the legal consequences would be to her taking a frying pan to Negala's head. She instead added, "Starting now, _Admiral_."

"I'm not the enemy here, Caroline," he repeated, but did straighten himself and begin moving back to the main foyer. Caroline waited a beat before following him there.

"I don't want you to be an enemy, Duras," she said as the Admiral put a hand on the doorknob. "But you aren't a friend. Not here, not yet." Caroline felt herself shake internally at her words. Never before had she so boldly staked claim or set boundaries this way, certainly never with Zak's godfather.

"I understand," Negala nodded, but neither said nor promised anything further. Instead, he let himself out and politely closed the door behind him. Caroline could only stand there and will herself not to succumb to the nausea that roiled in her gut.

* * *

At length, she decided that continuing to stand there did no one any good. It had been a hour or so since Kara had come downstairs, a small realization that gave her a momentary flash of worry; it thankfully was not near-blind panic she'd prone to since Lee's brought her to Sparta, but enough to have her ascending the stairs and heading down the hall.

Caroline again restrained herself from just crossing the threshold, or even rounding the corner entirely. Rather she carefully peeked around the threshold, relieved beyond words to see Kara sitting at the room's only desk, fingers dancing in the air as her eyes roamed over the heavy binder open before her. The look on the girl's face was one of actual contentment, something Caroline was loath to disturb in the slightest.

Rather, she eased herself away and instead headed to the studio, wanting to see if Kara had managed to finish anything in the few hours she'd had to herself. Turning on the standing lamp by the door, Caroline was mildly surprised to find a half-dozen finished drawings in pencil sitting on the folding table. Carefully picking each up, she was further amazed at the level of detail and care given the images, never mind such had been rendered in simple pencil. Some of the scenes seemed -- familiar somehow. Perhaps she should call in one of her acquaintances from the Galleria and get a professional opinion on them.

She left the drawings where they were and returned downstairs, intent on looking up someone who could appraise Kara's work. It might prove a premature move, but then again --

The door opened just as she made it to the foyer, Lee quickly stepping inside and looking about -- _hungrily._ Caroline didn't need to guess what for. "She's up in your room." Her eldest didn't even acknowledge her presence, never mind her words, instead rushing up the stairway and vanishing down the hall.

Caroline remained where she stood, listening for any loud sounds. None came, however, and Caroline ultimately decided to return to the kitchen and start a late dinner. Gods knew those two were probably working up quite an -- appetite -- at this point. They might even be hungry for real food. When they final deigned to come back downstairs, that is.

Until then? Well, she'd just have to practice being selective deaf. _Again_.

Thank the gods Zak had returned to Camp; there were some things a sibling just _doesn't_ need to hear coming from their elder sibling's mouth.

_tbc..._

* * *

**De author seez:**_ I gotta be honest here, folks: I'm seriously considering tearing this story down and starting from scratch. What was originally supposed to be a short, angsty relationship piece has mushroomed into something I'm not sure I want to tackle. The whole 'Favors Trading' angle wasn't supposed to become something out of a John Grisham novel, never mind take on the significance it has. Ditto with Caroline Adama, who defies my efforts to write her coherently._

_Basically I've been flying blind here and don't know if I can land this sucker. I'm not jumping ship necessarily, but my energy levels have been so low lately (three guesses why) and its taken me this long just to write out this one chapter. Updates will come, eventually, but don't be surprised if it takes awhile._

_Let me know what you think of this mess. Cheers!  
_


	34. Redaction as Policy

_Yes, I'm reposting this chapter. A couple reviewers and others pointed out Chapel was breaking certain ethical standards and practices. I agree some further CYA was needed, hence the slight expansion here. Plus which I mistakenly promised more chapters than I actually planned to finish with. See the author's note at the end._

* * *

_Part 34: Redaction as Policy_

The streetlights and diffuse lighting gave the Civic Center a gentle nighttime glow in contrast to much of the rest of the city surrounding it. Most of the North Wing was similarly dark, only a few scattered offices still lit. One such office was, unsurprisingly, that of the commanding officer himself.

Kennett Waynes was no stranger to late hours. He had spent most of his professional career studiously ignoring the schedules of others - especially those of his peers – and producing his best work long after any sane person had gone home. This gave him a body of work that legal journals often compared to the late Joe Adama's, and a reputation of being an utterly self-involved egomaniac and slave driver. One who happily worked his staff half to death, and sent the other half into the mental ward.

Sadly, there was some truth to this, at least the second half of it. The JAD _did_ experience a higher-than-average turnover in staff; the Special Investigations Unit in particular had difficulty retaining support staff and, more telling, competent investigators. The messes they had to unravel would wear on anyone's soul.

The Lyceus cousins were more the exception than the rule, both as dedicated to their respective spheres as Admiral Waynes himself. They weathered the frequent threats to their lives with a stoicism that bordered on casual indifference. Admiral Waynes had long made a point not to enquire too deeply into their personal lives or motives. Rather he just counted his blessings that they were good at their jobs.

He wasn't naïve enough to think those two, never mind the rest of his staff, didn't need some spiritual support. Hence, he made damn sure he had capable and qualified crisis counselors on retainer. Most were retired military or had experience with the uniformed service. The select few who weren't had taken Holy Orders at some time in their lives; they dealt with the worst cases of burnout and fatigue, and had likely saved more than a few of his people from suicide. Not all of them, unfortunately.

Chapel Brynn was among that small handful of individuals. He'd managed to talk several researchers down from the metaphorical ledge in the past. Unfortunately, he'd also talked a few into quitting both the JAD and the fleet entirely. The man didn't seem to know when to quit when it came to his counseling.

Which was but one of the reasons Waynes had been less than enthusiastic about him sitting down with young Adama. Lee Adama, despite his bouts of recklessness in the air, was still an up-and-comer with the public; so having him suddenly quit the service was sure to raise eyebrows in official quarters and offices Waynes normally preferred avoid having take an interest. Besides, it was likely only a matter of time before some enterprising member of the press got word that Kara Thrace had resurfaced and was being sheltered by the Adamas. When it came to stories like this, the Caprica press had a tendency to behave like peacocks: colorful, noisy, attention-demanding, and practically brainless. It was a complication he really didn't want or need, especially when there were still two cases pending judgment that monen.

As if to spite him, the counselor in question suddenly stepped into his office after only a cursory knock on the door. He didn't even wait for what would have been an equally cursory invitation to enter. Somehow, he never knew how or why, Admiral Waynes could never work up more than a momentary puff of anger at the former priest for such presumption.

Even that singular puff dissipated the instant the priest sat himself before the Admiral's desk. "You're looking pleased," Waynes noted.

"How I wish," Chapel shrugged, reaching over and placing a handful of typed paper. "Rough transcripts from my talk with the Lieutenant."

The Admiral eyed the stack. "The paperback blurb version?"

"You aren't going to read it?"

Waynes wondered if the former priest was nearly as aggrieved as he sounded. "Later, when I can devote actual time to speed reading."

"So be it." Chapel shrugged and sat back. "Honestly?" Waynes gave him a significant look, clearly signaling further delay and prevarication wouldn't be appreciated. "Are we absolutely sure young Lieutenant Adama was never involved in the network?"

"No evidence even hinting at it ever surfaced. If anything, it sounded like he scared them off."

"That reckless?"

"That uptight." Waynes sighed. "Torris is half-convinced the Two-Ten on him is at least partially fabricated."

"Can I ask why?"

"Something about 'bi-polar personality dissonance' or some such." Waynes sighed angrily. "I swear, it like the man can't speak in words under eight syllables sometimes."

"Hmm," Chapel hummed in thought. "I wonder --"

"Oh, what?"

Chapel didn't answer immediately, but then sat forward and rested both elbows on his knees, fingers tented and face commendably serious. "Lee Adama doesn't strike me as the most -- stable of personalities."

"Really?" Waynes frowned. "If I recall correctly, he was cited for Calm Under Severe Crisis at least twice."

"It was three times, each of them during shipboard situations." A wince crossed Chapel's weathered features. "He's also gotten four Notations of Censure for flying like a loon."

"It's -- colorful in there, I admit," Waynes agreed. "Blue reprimands, red commendations, and his record on the sims in High Indigo. Pretty much the only reason he hasn't been medically discharged is his not having crashed his plane yet."

"That why he hasn't been promoted past his first bar?"

"Not according to his evaluations. He doesn't seem to have any interest in advancement. They pushed him out of the War College in record time, it seems."

"That difficult?"

"Difficult doesn't begin to touch the man. He seemed bent on arguing with the instructors on everyting after his last year at the Academy."

"That would be right after Thrace disappeared," Chapel observed.

"Of course no one put it together it at the time."

"Well, why would they?" Chapel snorted. "I got the sense young Adama isn't one to talk about his _feelings_."

"If that were so, what we're you two doing the upstairs? Playing Triad?"

"Unfortunately, no. Julia pinched my cards sometime last night." Waynes head snapped up, meeting Chapel's deliberately bland expression directly. "Relax, man. My gods, what do you take me for?"

"I have no clue most days," the Admiral snapped. "And why do I get the sense you're trying to sound _me_ out here?"

"Because I am."

When Chapel offered no further comment beyond that, Waynes could only sigh and sit back. "First Lyceus, and now you. My gods, what kind of -- what do you take _me_ for?

Chapel appeared to ponder this private musing and stated, "I take you to be a highly intelligent, highly dedicated Officer of the Court, who has never failed to live up to his reputation of outshining even Joe Adama in his zealous advocacy for his client."

Waynes leaned further back into his chair and looked towards the ceiling. "That's right. Damn me with faint praise."

However, Chapel wasn't entirely finished. "You're not interested in young Lieutenant Adama," he observed. "Your concern here is Thrace. And I'll wager you're looking for any excuse to get her out of the orbit of Caroline Adama and into your own, if only to spare your office and the fleet a lengthy and likely very costly out of court settlement negotiation."

"Gods help me if you ever get called to testify."

Chapel smirked. "I'd invoke my Temple Vows and tell them to frak off."

"And if whoever it was appealed, it would be yarens and yarens before you came anywhere near the witness stand." Waynes nodded. "Remind me why you never joined the Bar?"

"Because I'm a teetotal and need to provide a good role model for my delinquent of a daughter." The Admiral winced, mentally kicking himself for having walked once more into the same bad pun.

"Back to the issue at hand --" he started.

"Which one?" Chapel broke in. "We've so many."

"Thrace," Waynes stated forcefully. "Well, her and the Adamas."

"Yes?"

Waynes gave his old friend a sour look. "Why am I even talking to _you_ about this?" he wondered aloud.

"Because I'm here, I listen, and I'm not shy about telling you when you're acting like a frak-head."

"The term rhetorical question just doesn't click with you, does it? Don't answer that." The Admiral drummed his fingers on the desk before him. "I wouldn't mind if we could put Thrace into protective custody for a long while. Trouble is --"

"Yes?"

"Well, how the frak do I justify the move? Sparta Police don't have any leads on whoever beat her down, and the whole Traders network seems to have wrapped up since we put down Paullen and Delegate Lynns." Waynes shrugged with hands spread wide. "I'm honestly at a loss."

"You'd need an actual -- an actual physical _threat_ to her life to do this?" Chapel sounded unusually thoughtful in his question.

"I'd like one, yes, _preferably_ one that involves some danger to her physical safety." He took note of the increasingly distant look to the priest. "You have something?" Chapel didn't respond immediately. "You _have_ something?" Waynes repeated, more forcefully this time.

"Perhaps -- I'm -- I'm not sure."

"Brynn?" the Admiral prompted again after a moment's silence. The former priest didn't respond, still struggling it seemed with some internal debate.

"You were asking about Lieutenant Adama before?"

"Yes." Waynes didn't try to analyze or anticipate the connection between these seeming _non sequitors_. He simply waited for the priest to proceed.

"He -- might be your answer."

"What does that mean?"

"I mean, he _might_ be the excuse you need."

Waynes blinked once, twice, then shook his head. "I'm -- what?" He gave himself another shake and tried to form cogent words. "Are you saying she's in danger from _Adama_?"

"I'm saying based on my interview with him -- well, it clear the lad has never really dealt with her running off as she did."

"Should you even be talking about this?"

Chapel shrugged carelessly. "Technically he isn't a suspect, witness, nor a penitent. I can always argue he and I weren't under any legal confidentiality in our discussion --"

"Are you being serious now?"

"Why do you think I'm sounding you out, Kennet? To fill hours on this month's invoice?"

The Admiral snickered humorlessly. "You've never sumbitted a single invoice to this office for your time." Chapel returned the chuckle, but sobered when Waynes continued. "You got that he's a danger out of a single five-hour interview?"

"I got that out of the first five minutes." Chapel shook his head. "His Two-Ten doesn't begin to touch just how bad off I suspect he is."

"How does him being a tad reckless in the cockpit equate into --" Waynes didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"He talked on two different occasions about killing her, himself, his parents, practically the entire frakking government," Chapel stated bluntly. "Other considerations aside, I am under legal obligation to inform you when such threats are made, aren't I?"

"Sounds perfectly normal for this day and age." This was a bit of an exaggeration, but the Adar Administration had ruffled quite a few feathers on all twelve colonies. Very vocal, very public calls against it were an almost daily occurrence in the press.

"Oh I agree, at least in principle." Chapel sighed and pressed on. "But to hear it come from an officer in the Colonial Fleet? From Bill Adama's eldest?"

"I get the point," Waynes agreed with an upraised hand. "My point is that even if I were to go this route, and that's iffy by itself given the source, _if_ I did it's barely defensible as a reason to take custody of Thrace. _Especially_ when you consider the circumstances and who she's staying with."

"Well, you did ask."

"I did," the Admiral agreed. "Do you think Adama really is a danger to her?"

Chapel appeared to think about this, but ultimately chuckled mirthlessly. "Well, he's maybe danger to himself -- _maybe_ -- and he's _definitely_ danger to anyone who comes within spitting distance of them. But a danger to _just _her?" He shook his head, although for some reason this didn't strike Waynes as a definitive judgment.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning -- we'll want to tread carefully from here on." Chapel offered an apologetic shrug. "Otherwise I fear we'll spook either her or the Lieutenant or both into doing something -- stupid."

"'Stupid' as in --?"

"Terminal. Terminally _stupid_, I should say."

Waynes dry-scrubbed his face with both hands. "So pulling her in isn't an option."

"I wouldn't go that far, Admiral," Chapel objected. "It just has to be done -- carefully."

"Carefully," Waynes echoed, sounding even less enthralled than before.

"_Care-full-lee,_" the priest enunciated carefully, only to receive a glare from across the desk.

Rather than pursue that line of inquiry further, Waynes picked up the piled transcript and asked, "Is there anything in here worth the time?"

"I'm not one to judge." Chapel stood and made to leave. "Anything else you feel --"

"Get out of here, will you? I've got reading to do." The Admiral turned his attention to the papers before him. To anyone else it would have appeared like an impolitic snub; between the two of them, it was _status quo ante. _Neither offered any words of good night. Chapel simply left the office without another word, thoughts turning to the issues likely to confront him the next day.

The Admiral himself focused on the transcript, paging through it smoothly and efficiently. Ten minutes later and two complete readings later, he reached for the phone on his desk, picked up the receiver and entered a nine-digit code into the keypad. The party on the other end picked up before the first tone completed its chime.

"This is Admiral Waynes," he identified himself before the other party could even speak. "Clearance nine-nine-delta-four-eight-three. Day code is -- laborsday."

"_Stand by." _There was a short pause._ "Clearance and code confirmed, Admiral,"_ was the response. _"Go ahead."_

"I need a fresh 'legend' prepared for one witness, one having connections and high profile."

"_Aye-aye, Sir. File name?"_

The Admiral took a breath.

"Kara Thrace."

Tbc...

* * *

**De Author Offers Faire Warning: **_Okay, folks, here it comes. I'll be ending this story by **part** **40**, after which will come a sequel that jumps ahead a few years (and several tragedies). I presently plan on posting all of the concluding chapters in one go, which will probably be towards the end of the month. I'll ask/beg/plead for patience here while I organize my thoughts and get the words down._

_In the meanwhile, I wouldn't mind some in-depth reviews here, if only so I know I'm on the right track.  
_


	35. First Step to Resolution

_(We're almost there. Notes at the end of Part 38.)_

* * *

_Part 35: First Step to Resolution_

Strange how things went, or so Lee would later reflect. He had just enough understanding of how Kara's mind worked that he could imagine how she'd likely interpreted their mutual confessions. Hearing a man – if he could even call himself _that_– to whom you were bound (and, according to some archaic legal rulings still in force on Picon, technically _married _to) all but admit to being a certifiable lunatic could seemingly wipe away all her sins against him. Or, if not wipe them from memory, at least relegate them to the background and leave the metaphorical foreground open for more positive things to occur.

At least, that's what he imagined was running through her head as she stood up from behind his desk, then moved around it to come to stand directly before him. He would debate for years to come whether this was necessarily a positive thing. That he met her own gaze full on, feeling his eyes misting over in those damnable jeweled eyes of hers; damned if that didn't just make him feel _good_ in all the right places. This was balanced by his mild annoyance at realizing he had crossed his arms around him at some point during their mutual confessions to/at each other. It was a fleeting thing however, as he was deliberative and clear in unfolding those strong arms.

Accepting this for the invitation it was, Kara reached down and grasped his offered hands. With a barely-discernible tug, she brought him to stand before her. Only their palms were touching, yet he would have sworn his skin burned from her presence alone, as surely as if he'd been standing at the center of a Solstice bonfire. Lee could feel a line of sweat break out across his forehead, and his breathing become just a tad labored.

Kara apparently noticed this. As a result, her conviction and confidence beganto falter, badly. She began to hyperventilate a bit, prompting a worried Lee to break the silence and ask "Are you -- Kara?"

"Hmm?"

"What --?"

"Hmm?"

Damn but she was making it impossible to concentrate. Had it really been so long since she'd --?

Fortunately for his fast-vanishing sanity, Kara was prepared to be succinct in her intentions. "I'm going to touch you, Lee. That's all."

It was enough to send his thoughts tumbling backwards in time, to a moment at once similar and unique to there and then.

* * *

"_Are you okay?" he asked Kara, easing her down onto her sofa as best he could. No easy task given her coordination had gone south after the three glasses of Clear Ambrosia she'd indulged in earlier. The girl might've had a worryingly high tolerance for drink, worrying in one so young, but she showed the more modest effects of it sooner as well. _

_Even so, and even allowing how she was no light weight, getting her to sit down proved a chore, mainly because he was also trying to balance a stack of boxes in his free hand._

"_I feel sick," Kara groaned for the third time. The hiccup of a chuckle accompanying this undermined any concern Lee might've summoned for her._

"_Duly noted," he observed dryly. Satisfied she was safe for the moment – and subtly steeling himself for a telltale 'thud' the instant he turned his back – Lee busied himself with the boxes he carried. The first and heaviest was the leftover birthday cake from her party earlier; this he stowed away in the refrigerator which took up a sizable portion of her tiny kitchenette. He took quick ,if dismayed, note of just how empty its shelves were and made a mental note to take them on some serious grocery shopping later. _

_The remaining two boxes, one holding the tailored dress from his mother and the other the artist's portfolio he'd had made, went onto the twin-sized bed that was pressed into the corner opposite the kitchenette. The top of her small bureau was too cluttered to hold them, and there were no other available surfaces for them. Why his mother had agreed to let Kara reside in this closet of an apartment he'd never know -- _

_Kara's arms suddenly snaking around his torso from behind caused him to start violently enough that it should have __shaken__ her off. Instead, Kara simply tightened her hold on him and went up on tiptoes (her chest sliding up his back in that most uncomfortable way), her breath hot in his ear._

"_I want my birthday present," she purred, voice perfectly pitched and without a trace of uncertainty or inebriation. _

"_Um," was Lee's barely-cogent reply, most of his consciousness kicking him for falling for her obvious ruse __so easily__. His mother probably had seen right through it but played along, if she wasn't actually part of it -- _

"_Now," was her hushed demand, followed immediately by -- _

* * *

-- The shock of her fingers on his bare skin. Lee's eyes shot open, realizing she'd managed to get his jacket off and was in the process of divesting him of his tanks. How the frak had she managed to work so fast?

He nearly laughed. They'd _always_ been fast to do _this_;_ w_hether because they feared discovery or were under time constraints, they had undressing each other down to a virtual science. How had he managed to forget that?

Probably the same way his consciousness was suddenly occupied with memories of --

* * *

-- _how easily they fell onto her bed together, arms folding in a clumsy embrace. _

_A shared look and they were suddenly standing again, their four hands and twenty fingers working in perfect concert between them, slipping buttons open and moving cloth aside. They'd had a nearly a full year of practice between them, and so could read each other's actions without needing to look down._

_Lee didn't _dare_look down. They'd been nude to each other before; but skinny-dipping at his family farm on Tauron, tentative touches in the dark, his lips tasting her essence and hers enveloping him whole -- these are far distant and shallow experiences in comparison to what they know is coming. Legality and morals be damned. _

_Kara had already pulled his belt off and shoved his jeans and boxers down. He'd sprung out into the open air, hard and ready. She didn't touch him; reading him perfectly and not wanting him to explode anywhere save _inside_ her._

_And explode he would. His groan of frantic arousal, his default state in her presence, was mirrored by her own as he worried and rolled her hardened nipples with his fingertips. She was standing before him, wholly exposed in both body and soul. A quick tug here and there and he was the same. He feels his throat close, eyes going wide. Kara's shoulders shake and fists clench at her side. Perhaps he -- they have gone too far too quickly for her -- _

_She was on her knees before him before he can even blink. Her lips were pressing on his hip -- _

* * *

-- Her lips were pressing on his hip and Lee wondered again how the frak she'd manage to work him so fast.

There was no way to hide himself anyway. She'd pulled his trousers down along with his skivvies. Lee closed his eyes and just surrendered to the magic those lips worked on him again --

* * *

_-- Those lips were on him again, his lying prone on her -- on _their_ bed now. _

_She kisses him up and down, skillfully avoiding his 'hot spots'. He didn't dare urge her near them, so fragile was his self-control now, and thus allowed her to set the pace here. It was only fitting, given this was entirely for her._

_That pleasant little lie shattered as her tongue conducted its well-practiced dance across the underside of his cock. He couldn't hope to hold himself still, his hips bucking sharply. _

"_Gods, Kara," he whispered -- _

* * *

-- Heart wrenching and every nerve afire. How the frak he was _still_ standing upright he had no clue.

Now, as then, she avoided touching anywhere -- explosive -- and stayed to more familiar patches. She used only lips and fingers on him, but that was more than enough to set him on fire as she reacquainted herself with his body.

It was a slow, laborious process she put him through. Sadistic, even. He might have been tempted to hate her for it, except Lee was finding it next to impossible to keep his thoughts focused in the _here_ and _now_.

Instead he was tormented by memories of how --

* * *

_-- One hand cradled his balls, the other raked up and down his chest, and her mouth worked up and down his erection. That's how it would have been described by someone from the outside._

_For Lee, it was the equivalent of having his skin seared off, one layer at a time, and the rest of him soaked in liquid fire._

"_Kara," he sobbed. He was on the verge of tears, internal pressure building beyond his already taxed capacity to hold it. If past experience was any guide, his cock was about to explode in her mouth and – going by the sheer amount of pressure that tongue of hers was inviting – the rest of him would follow immediately thereafter. And, oh gods, did he want it to happen right frakking now --!_

_He nearly screamed as her mouth and hands left him, the cold air an entirely new torture upon him. It was a bad enough shock he had to consciously fight not to scream, and fight still harder to get his breath under control so he _could_ scream at her to put her hands and mouth _back_ where they'd been. Managing to wrestle himself to a semi-sitting position – despite how uncooperative his limbs had become – he'd fully intended to screech, beg and plead with Kara to get back to work on him._

_What he saw killed any voice he might have had._

_Kara was opening a small, square foil package, extracting an equally small roll of latex and turning to gaze at him directly. She held his eyes for only a few seconds before turning them downwards, refocusing on that region between his hips she'd spent so many nights diligently worshipping. _

_Lee trembled because she was trembling. He bit his lip in anxiety because she was chewing hers. _

_With shaking hands, Kara placed and unrolled the condom over his now stone-hard erection. It was deliberately slow work, her clear unwillingness to rush and break the material. It told Lee volumes about her and about this moment._

_This was happening. Now. Tonight._

_There would be no going back, and both of them __k__new it. After all, he wasn't sweating from any kind of _external_ heat source, and she wasn't shaking from the cold in the room._

_She wanted this. It was hers to claim. It always had been._

_Their eyes met again, shinning in the near-darkness, holding each other still even as he guided her to come astride him. _

_Their eyes didn't waver a micron as she reached back and took his sheathed member, still solid and hard as Mount Olympus itself, raising it and positioning herself. _

_Lee moved his hands so they lay flat on her hips, supporting her as she closed her eyes and eased back -- inch by inch -- _

_Impaling herself on him._

_He could feel her heat through the latex. Her heat and more. The condom would be bloody as hell and Lee prayed Kara had thought far enough ahead to have more than one handy. _

_He force__d__ his eyes to focus on her face, straining past his own pain of restraint and the shadows half-covering them. Her beautiful face is at once set and twisting in an effort he can only barely imagine. Pain is there, as is the first flickers of elation, and a sweaty determination to press on despite the pain and elusive release. Lee himself was having a hard enough time keeping himself where he was, allowing Kara to set the pace and to move only to her rhythm. _

_The urge to seize her and roll her onto her back, then drive the rest of the way into her and never frakking leave __w__as near overwhelming. He was shaking __badly__ now, his hips doing so the worst and nearly wrecking the steady rhythm Kara had set._

_Kara's soft cry -- _

* * *

-- sounded suspiciously like his own voice as Kara's tongue found that magical knot of nerves that had him shooting like a battlestar's firing solution.

Lee felt her go utterly still as her took his release into her mouth and down her throat, tongue still working hard and massaging the underside of his cock even as it milked him dry. It had been so long, lifetimes long, since he'd _felt _anything even remotely close to _this_ --

It was too much. Too damned much. He had to lock his knees and bite his lip hard enough to taste blood to stay standing. He managed, just -- but his heaving chest and increasingly compromised balance meant he wouldn't be upright much longer.

Somehow, Lee found the strength to refocus himself. This proved surprisingly easy to do, as Kara was still kneeling before him, her head bowed and hands sitting in her lap. Lee felt his heart clench painfully at the sight; she was still, save for a tiny tremor that shook her shoulders. His hearing seemed to become superhumanly acute and detected an equally tiny sound coming from her.

She was crying.

He didn't bother to pull up his pants, instead falling to his own knees so their eyes were level. The tear-tracks on her cheeks shone gently in the room's minimal lighting. He was nearly physically sick at the sight and the realization that followed: _he _had done this to her, probably caused her to have some godsawful flashback to Lake's attack.

Lee Adama had never hated himself more than at that very moment.

"Kara?" He didn't even wince at how hoarse and squeaky his voice was. "Kara? What do you want me to do?"

She could demand his life, and he'd hand her his gun and hold it right to his heart. She could tell him to go away, and he'd throw himself into the deepest hole on Caprica he could find.

He would wait there, naked and disheveled, until she deigned to answer him.

_Tbc...instantly!_


	36. Second Step to Resolution

_Part 36: Second Step to Resolution_

Kara could not begin to put words to what she was feeling as she knelt there, an unworthy supplicant before an incarnated god. How had it come to this? How had things spiraled so far away from her control that she'd --

If Lee wanted her life, she would surrender it without complaint. She deserved nothing better, especially when she had instigated this -- this _violation_ of him to begin with.

"I'm going to touch you." She should have frakking known better. The second she'd felt his skin, that simple contact that was it. Game over. She was a frakking junkie who had gone five years without her fix. Was she deluded enough to think a simple taste would satisfy her?

But it hadn't been a simple taste, had it? Touching his hands, okay, that was a socially acceptable and _safe_ bit of contact. Then she had gone and lost her mind and forgotten her station here and decided she wanted _more_. Lee's asking her what she was doing should have snapped her out of it, if only he hadn't spoken in that damned low voice he used -- the same one that never failed to soak her panties and make her forget the rest of the universe.

This time it was worse. First her mouth spouted off before she could stop it, telling the truth in one breath ("I'm going to touch you, Lee."), then lie in the next ("That's all."). That was bad enough. Then her fingers got into the act, committing mutiny against common sense and proceeded to pull his jacket and tanks off him, because her eyes decided they wanted to touch him as well and get a good, full look at the body she had been clinging to the last two nights.

That chiseled chest of his, so frakking perfect in form and design it would have made Aphrodite weep, had her mouth watering, and itdrew her in as surely as if Lee had reached out and pulled her. Her lips were on his shoulder, pressed as hard as humanly possible. His skin tasted of sweat and soap; it should have repulsed her. Just the thought of touching another man, touching _anyone's _skin, had quietly repulsed Kara for years.

Instead, she commenced raking her teeth across that hard skin, her tongue leaving a trail of passage as she went.

Why Lee stood there and allowed her to take such liberties, well, it wasn't something Kara wanted to question or analyze. He was showing a lot of generosity here, and she was determined to get as much out of it as possible. It might just fortify her enough to pay the price she was sure he'd demand for it.

"Kara," he breathed out, like a prayer. It was his _soft voice_. The _low voice_ was one thing, never failing to leave her wet and wanting; the _soft voice_something else entirely. It left her weak, because it always sounded like religious rapture, which she knew was not something Lee Adama would otherwise experience -- were it not for _her_.

It meant she alone could invite the _soft voice_ from him.

It meant she had _power_ over him.

It never failed to make her feel faint from the realization. Except that time, right then and there in his bedroom in his mother's house, she didn't feel faint. Quite the reverse, as her every sense sharpened to crystal clarity and her hunger consumed the last dregs of conscious control.

Suddenly Kara couldn't smell his sweat or stale soap residue. Or rather, she smelled what was beneath that cover: that spicy mix that would visit her dreams so often when she was alone, or catch her unawares in the street. Kara knew those times were nothing but delusion, no matter how real the pang they invoked proved.

This time was different. She had the source of it right in front of her, and like a child set loose in the metaphorical candy factory Kara wasn't above gorging herself.

This was why Kara was soon kissing and licking her way down Lee's chest, sternum, and belly, her hands on his hips for support as she settled to her knees. Her fingers were soon working the catch and zipper of his pants, their actions wholly independent of higher thought. There was nothing remotely civilized about the growl that issued out of her throat when the clasp at his waist proved difficult.

Throughout all of this, Lee himself was apparently lost somewhere in his own head. Otherwise, he wouldn't have _squeaked_in complete surprise when Kara manages to pull his pants and skivvies down and fasten her lips onto his hip. He offered no word of protest or placed any demand that she either speed up or slow down. Kara went so far as to risk a quick glance upwards, certain this would break the spell between them, only to feel a frantic, carnal tattoo start up in her chest at the sight of Lee's exquisitely blissed-out expression.

Kara actually debated with herself whether to press on, conscious that Lee hadn't verbally offered the whole of himself to her. True, he'd said she was in charge here, whatever the frak that meant, but Kara wasn't sure that necessarily translated into her being afforded all liberty with his body. Her brain had kicked into high gear and was coming up with all sorts of liberties she could take with him.

The fact he didn't seem to be entirely conscious, and therefore not immediately able to offer consent, was another worry that threatened to overwhelm what pleasure this whole interlude was offering. Was there any sense in including rapist to her list of sins? Better she put the brakes on this, apologize, and find somewhere else to sleep for the night.

All those fine and noble thoughts fled at the first glance to the right.

Her mouth went dry even as the rest of her gushed like a flood at the sight that greeted her. How the frak had she _not_ seen how -- _big_ -- he'd gotten? Kara couldn't, literally couldn't stop herself from reaching out and cradling _him_, one hand palming his sac, the other running over his silk-smooth skin foreskin.

Another debate started within Kara's mind, the options quickly bled down to _mouth_ versus _vagina._ She chose the former, but only because it didn't involve much movement or further delay. She was impatient to feel _him_ inside her and was far past the point of being picky about just _where_ penetration occurred; she wanted it to happen _right frakking now_!

Lee moaned again as she slid her lips, knees buckling for a second and hips jerking, exactly the way Kara could remember they did the countless times before. She was amazed how clearly she recalled the nuances of his arousal. His knees would tremble three times, and then lock tight, but never in tandem. A full body shudder would work its way from his hips up through his shoulders and end with his upper half making a small twist to the right -- followed by one to the left -- he'd heave three breaths, then calm, because that way he'd fight down the urge to shoot his wad too quickly.

Her mouth worked him while her hand continued to work his sac, rolling its surprisingly tight contents around in that particular way that soon had Lee panting hard. As fully as _he_ filled her mouth, Kara found the dexterity to take him entirely, her nose nearly brushing his coarse nether hairs. His scent, his musk, filled her nostrils as fully and choked off any further restraint she might have mustered. A few swipes of her tongue along his underside, coupled with a gentle tug on his scrotum, and Lee's entire form went still --

-- then jerked hard from head to crown as he emptied himself into Kara's waiting mouth. She took it all in deep gulps, not loosing a single drop.

They hadn't uttered a sound the whole time.

* * *

He remained hard for several long moments after it was done, and Kara was more than content to let him remain where he was. Ultimately, however, nature reasserted control, and he softened and withdrew from her lips. With him went any elation Kara that might have otherwise buoyed her against the sudden wave of guilt the swamped her thoughts.

_What have I done? _Repeated over and over in her ears. _What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?_

The answer was so obvious she actually had to reach for it: she had just committed rape. She had finally reduced herself to the same level as that frakker Lake. Gods, was she crying now? What frakking right did she have to shed tears over anything?

Kara felt rather than saw Lee move away. Given her head was bowed, it barely registered that he did so purely so he could kneel down and bring them to eye-to-eye.

"Kara?" She flinched slightly at the hoarse tone he employed. "Kara? What do you want me to do?"

He couldn't have stunned her more if he had whacked her upside the head with a stickball bat. He was asking her what she -- what she _wanted_? Wanted from what? More to the point, from _whom_?

Kara found she didn't need to reach for answers this time, at least consciously. Just as well as her conscious control had apparently fled the room and likely the twelve colonies entirely. Her internal auto-pilot directed her head to move laterally to align with the horizon, then brought her eyes into direct LOS with Lee's, and finally moved her arms so they reached out and took his hands in hers once more.

She brought his palms up to her face, turning them so the palms were barely a hair's breath from connecting with her tear-streaked cheeks.

"Touch me."

Kara would have sworn it wasn't her voice asking for this. Except it was.

Her own hands fell away from Lee's, those hands closing the distance to her cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away the fresh tears that leaked from behind her lashes, his palms easily covering the rest. His touch was light, cautious, as if he feared the smallest pressure could shatter her bones. It was a tender touch, at once familiar and painfully alien, and it brought fresh tears, which softened and obscured her vision.

She had no idea what Lee saw in her, or what expression he may or may not have worn as consequence.

It was only natural, then, that she be shocked once more when Lee drew their faces closer and just as gently-implacably brought their lips to meet in the middle. He had even tilted her head slightly, as he always had when they kissed.

Kara Thrace no longer existed in anything a normal person would refer to as reality. She resided now in a timeless place where the only measure of all things was the sensation of Lee Adama's skin on her own. She wanted more and more and more of that contact between them, the will of the gods and the laws and morality of men be damned; she wanted to feel _everything_ --

Perhaps she'd said this aloud, as Lee chose that moment to release her head and join their hands once more. Kara could feel him scoot away a pace, and then climb to his feet, drawing her up with him. She was of no mind to ask his intentions. There proved to be no need to, as he quickly undid the belt to her robe, which pooled at her feet.

It was fortunate, for both of them, that her altered state of consciousness was so thorough. Otherwise, she might have been tempted to protest when Lee knelt down and took up the hem of her nightshirt. Perhaps he expected some manner of protest or fuss as he paused there, making no move to rise.

"Kara?" It wasn't the _low voice _this time, or the _soft voice._ It was _Lee's_ voice, asking her a hundred different things without needing to voice the words.

She had no answers for any of them and didn't seek any.

Instead, she made a decision, and acted on it.

Bending down, she pushed Lee's hands away and gathered up the hem herself. There was no hesitation to her straightening up, pulling the material up over her legs, over her hips and up her chest, past her shoulders --

-- Pulling it off -- and tossing it aside --

-- turning to face Lee once again, clear-eyed now and utterly calm.

Kara knew she should have been a screaming basket-case right then, should have been curled up in a convenient corner and humming some crazy tune to herself to drown out equally crazy voices in her head.

She'd never felt calmer than that moment.

"Touch me," she repeated. "Please."

She closed her eyes and presented herself to the man before her. The man she was pledged to.

The man who'd saved her.

The man she loved.

He didn't leave her waiting long, his hands and lips soon finding familiar territory. Kara willingly lost herself to the rapture that followed.

_Tbc...when you hit the arrow button below._


	37. Stumbling Steps

_Part 37: Stumbling Steps_

Caroline Adama was up with the dawn, which was slightly unusual for her, as she would normally have slept right up to the first sounding of her bedside alarm. There wasn't much wonder as to why: between her pseudo-confrontations with Bill and Duras, the whirlwind turnaround with Kara, and her persistent worries over Lee -- well, the fact she managed even four hours of natural, unmedicated rest was a welcome development.

That didn't mean she was immediately ready or willing to look in on her two eldest. She brewed herself a strong draft of Tauron coffee, certain it caused her pupils to dilate as it made the kitchen momentarily vibrate with the first sip, _then _forced herself to take three more mouthfuls before feeling sufficiently strengthened to at least peek into the children's bedroom. Caroline half-expected the room to be a wreck, with clothes, books and (_godshelpthem_) the odd bloodstain strew all over.

Standing at the threshold, Caroline was greeted by a sight that was actually significantly more shocking. The room appeared virtually untouched, with only a couple of binders lying open on the desk the first obvious sign of someone having been there. Frowning, Caroline boldly took a half step further in and looked toward the bed. Her neck and ears were suddenly burning at the sight of Kara's bare shoulders and back peeking out above the comforter that covered her and Lee, whose likewise uncovered torso could be seen lying underneath Kara, his left arm thrown over her with his hand disappearing under the comforter over her backside.

It took no imagination to conceive what put the satisfied grin on both their faces. Caroline truly couldn't help the blush that surely turned her cheeks stark red as she focused on the floor and _away_ from the bed. What mother, after all, really _wants _to visualize what kind of -- intimate acts passed between her children?

Shaking off such visions, Caroline quickly stooped and picked up the various items of clothing the pair had left strewn on the floor. She shook her head at the sight of a missing button on Lee's uniform jacket, and took an extra moment to hold the nightshirt up, visually checking for tears in the silk. She wouldn't have put it past those two to destroy each other's clothes in an effort to --

Caroline again shook her head clear. She quickly balled up the laundry and quit the room, closing the door behind her. It occurred to her only after sending everything down the laundry chute that she'd just taken what clothing Kara might have called her own. Not that that was any great crisis, mind, as Lee would surely find things she could wear.

"Ugh," Caroline groaned, again having to force herself to stop thinking in _that_ direction. There were things a mother simply didn't need to know or imagine. Of course, such -- images -- were persistent and insidious. A piece of once-scandalous advice parted to her at the girls academy came to mind: _Once you see someone naked, you can't _not_ see them naked._

The same apparently held true for one's children.

Therefore, if she wanted to ever be able to be in the same room as Lee and Kara and not end up blushing, she needed to get her mind _out _of that bedroom and onto _other_ things. Thankfully, a few dozen practical matters demanded her attention.

Caroline returned to the kitchen, via her office to retrieve the folder she'd pulled out of the safe the previous day, mind quickly listing the phone calls she needed to make before the pair slumbering upstairs finally roused. For strength, she topped off her coffee mug. For courage, she forced a single large gulp of the tepid brew down her throat. This time, Caroline had to blink away a constellation of spots that popped into existence over her vision as she reached for the wireless phone on the wall. Her fingers thankfully remembered the digits she had been planning to punch, even if her vision was now shaky enough she couldn't distinguish between the keys.

The party on the other end picked up after five tones, by which time Caroline felt her nerves and vision evened out to where she could communicate coherently. _"Sherenford Maintenance and Services. How can we assist you?"_

"I need a cleaning crew to go through a single story residence near Delphi Fleet Academy and ready it for regular habitation. I have an existing account with you."

"_Name on the account, ma'am?"_

"Last name is 'Adama', first is 'Caroline'."

"_One moment, ma'am." _Caroline picked up her mug, but decided against another sip.

A completely different voice picked up from there._"Mrs. Adama?"_

"Yes?"

"_Ah, good morning."_

"Good morning. Are there -- is there a problem?"

"_No, no, Mrs. Adama. We just needed to look up a couple things here." _The voice on the other end was young and earnest. Caroline didn't recognize it, but then she didn't call this service more than once a year, if even that.

"_So, um, is the residence you need cleaned your house in Caprica City?"_

"No." Caroline decided to say nothing further, and quickly found herself grinning at the mischief she was doubtless causing the poor lad on the other end.

To his credit, the party on the other end persisted at his own steam. _"Oh. Okay. Um, we also have a vacation cabin outside Delphi on record."_

"Getting closer, son."

"_Well, __there are__ no other properties in your file. Is it a new property?"_

"Not exactly." Caroline paused for effect, ultimately deciding to put the other party out of his momentary misery. "May I ask who I'm speaking to?"

"_Uh, David, Mrs. Adama."_

"Well, Uh David, it's actually my son's house that needs to be cleaned out and likely fumigated."

"_Well we can certainly see to that, Mrs. Adama. Address?"_

Now it was Caroline's turn to stumble as she spoke. "Oh, its -- it's a one-story prefab on the perimeter of Delphi Fleet Academy. The number and street name escape me at the moment."

"_Okay. How quickly do you want the work done?"_

"Would the next 72 hours be doable?"

"_Should be. How quickly can you get us the full address?"_

Caroline thought for a moment, and then answered, "Give me an hour. Two at most."

"_That'll be fine, Mrs. Adama. I'll have the work order drawn up in the meantime. The order number will be ready when you call back."_

She nodded, only to realize this couldn't be seen over the wireless. "Yes, fine. Talk to you shortly, David. Thank you."

She cut the connection and let herself fume for a moment, feeling the fool. That could have certainly gone better. Caroline also realized this was the first time she'd seriously thought about Kara leaving her house -- and of Kara and Lee _living together_.

The thought alone was enough to leave her momentarily paralyzed, as it presumably would any mother. Caroline was honest enough with herself to acknowledge the issues on that score ran considerably deeper and with a much longer history, most of which her children were completely unaware of. She chose to deal with this the same way she had the past three years; that is, focus her attention and take action on something else entirely.

There was a pragmatic calculation to this; there was no way in all the gods created worlds she was going to disturb those two upstairs, and certainly not to apprise them of the thousand and one verbal cuts she'd applied to Kara's name over the years. There was no excuse for any of it, and realistically nothing to be done on that score. Better, Caroline had long ago decided, to put her energies into more practical pursuits.

Like calling in some legal reinforcements, just on the off chance the JAD decided it wanted her daughter's head rather than her forgiveness. She needed someone demonstrably prepared to go toe-to-toe with Kennet Waynes if need be. Caroline remembered the few times her late father-in-law spoke of his colleagues, with one name invariably coming up in the harshest of tones and contexts.

'A dirty, underhanded Aeran you can't trust with pocket change or a single compliment,' was Joe Adama's description of his one-time clerk, always adding, 'but damned if he doesn't play the Court like a stick-bowl game.'

With a grin, Caroline dialed a new number and again patiently waited for a response. The other end proved a bit slower in answering this time, something Caroline tried hard not to feel irked at. _"Buchanna, Ingersol, and Gage,"_ answered a chipper, girlish voice. _"How may I direct your call?"_

"Romo Lampkin, please."

Caroline's grin immediately faded at the girl's reporting, _"I'm sorry but Mr. Lampkin has gone to work for the Public Litigators Office. Is there someone else I could direct you to?"_

With a small sigh, Caroline answered "Not -- not at this time. Thank you."

"_Thank --" _She cut the connection before the girl finished. A bit rude, maybe, but Caroline didn't wish to lance the unfortunate receptionist with her frustration. Damnit, she cursed silently. She would have to think of somewhere else to call now. This was a pity as nowhere else immediately came to mind. The only other attorney she had regular contact with was her Estate Agent, who had more in common with a crème-puff pastry than an Officer of the Court.

Well, surely a few more calls around would solve that small matter. Once word got out the eldest of the Darden heirs was looking for representation, she would surely have firms competing for her attention. It shouldn't prove too hard to find someone then.

That empowering thought in mind, Caroline recalled she needed to call the cleaning service with the address to Lee's house. Moving quickly to her office, she rooted about in the desk drawers for several frustrating minutes, ultimately finding the copy of the Lease to the house that Lee had left with her. Why it was buried in amongst last year's tax returns, she had no idea.

Paging through the small packet with one hand, Caroline reached for the wireless phone on the desk with the other, fingers again punching the code automatically. Again, response was almost instantaneous. _"Sherenford Maintenance and Services." _

"May I speak to David, please?"

"_One moment."_ Caroline winced at the firm's choice of phone music. Fortunately, she didn't have to suffer the pipes-and-keys version of "How Great a Labor" for very long.

"_Hello?" _asked a familiar voice.

"Hello, David? This is Caroline Adama."

"_Yes, ma'am. I have the work order written up for you. Do you have the address of the residence?"_

"I do," Caroline nodded. "Its 12-1 Archon Path, in Delphi."

"_And you said this was at the Delphi Fleet Academy?"_

"Just outside its perimeter, not on the Academy grounds itself."

"_Okay, no problem. Will someone be there to let us in or do we need to collect keys?"_

"Do you have a specific date you can do this?"

"_The earliest we can be there is, um, just a second." _Caroline felt relieved to know she wasn't the only one who was completely disorganized in this. _"The twenty-second is our earliest opening. Do you expect this will be a full-day job?"_

Caroline thought for a moment. "Well, the place hasn't been occupied in over a year. I expect it'll need to be fumigated at least twice."

"_I'll put it down as a two-day job, then. About the keys, ma'am?"_

This made Caroline pause and debate with herself for a few seconds. "I'll meet you there." It was a risk, given the distance involved. She was still nervous at the prospect of leaving Kara alone and unsupervised for any length of time. She couldn't take it for granted Lee would be there with her; while he surely wouldn't willingly leave her side, he could just as easily be called back to the North Wing or off to Picon. Caroline could easily see it happening now that Duras had taken an interest.

Then again, some degree of trust would need to be built between them if Kara was ever going to feel secure in their relationship (provided it survived the next few days). A trip to Delphi and back would take just a half-day at worst. Kara would likely appreciate the peace and quiet as well.

It wasn't the soundest or strongest argument Caroline could come up with, but it served to reassure her snap decision.

"I'll be there," she repeated quickly. David acknowledged this and provided her the work order number, then bid her a good day. Caroline returned it and cut the connection, happy that at least one thing was working out as she hoped.

There were, however, still other matters to attend to. She made two more calls, one to acasual acquaintance at a law partnership in Caprica City, followed by one to the offices of the local Reform Temple. The first was an innocent-sounding inquiry for a recommendation for a contract attorney; there was no conflict of interest involved, as her acquaintance specialized strictly in tax law. The latter call was more personal in nature, and a priestess promised to visit the next day.

There was one last call to make, but Caroline felt the need to put that one off a short bit. She had already made good progress on her plans for the day. Besides, she felt a pang of concern for her children upstairs, and decided to take a quick peek. She'd be eternally grateful if they would just sleep the day through.

Ascending the stairs and moving down the hall, there was no indication either Lee or Kara had roused. It wasn't until she was just two paces from the half-open door that Caroline heard a low grunt emanating from her son's bedroom, followed by another. She paused, only to literally stumble back when Kara's voice audibly hissed, "Godssssss -- yesssssss."

Caroline felt herself blush again and carefully tip-toed back down the hall, her fingers plugging her eyes and voice box humming the Colonial Anthem just loudly enough to drown out anything else.

* * *

An hour, two cups of coffee, half a glass of wine, a club sandwich, and two-thirds of a sleeve of cookies later found Caroline back in her office, nerves just settled enough to where she was ready to make the last phone call she planned for the day. She paged through the blue folder and found the number she needed, her remarkably steady fingers dialing the number even as she kept a white-knuckle grip on the receiver. Caroline didn't allow herself to think about just how jumbled her nerves were, concentrating instead upon the dial tone in her ear.

Her throat went dry when the other side picked up. _"Hello?"_ a wholly unfamiliar voice asked after several seconds. _"Hello? Is someone --?"_

"Um, hello? Mr. Rand?"

"_Yes."_

"Dallan Rand?"

"_Yes, this is Dallan Rand. Who is this?"_

"My name is Caroline Adama."

She took a deep, gulped breath.

"I'd like -- I need to speak to you about your daughter, Karissa."

* * *

_Two days later._

Caroline had been sitting in her car for a good half-hour, waiting for her hired cleaning crew to arrive. In that time she'd walked around the house Lee and Kara were planning on moving into, coming away decidedly unimpressed and with more misgivings than ever. Enough where, even though she had keys, she had zero interest in examining the interior. Her decision to call in the professionals was clearly a sound one; certainly the prospect of Lee and Kara tackling cleaning this place out by themselves didn't bear thinking about.

Unit 12-1 Archon Path was barely more than a large prefabricated shack and looked no more homey than such. Its fiberglass walls were streaked with grime and the lawn surrounding it overgrown; only a once-a-month mow by the Academy grounds staff kept it from becoming a total blight on the area.

Not that it would been more noticeable if it did as Archon Path was one of those poorly-planned and inadequately-funded developments the military had slapped together so it could offer its swelling ranks somewhere other than the BOQ a home. Between the serviceable but unimaginative architecture, cheap property rates, and the fact it was marketed mainly to unmarried Fleet personnel who lived in active deployments, neglect of the property was inevitable. Caroline was mildly surprised the Caprican Health and Safety Commission hadn't stepped in by now.

She was debating whether hiring a landscaper was merited when a cargo van rumbled up the road from the opposite direction. Caroline was relieved to see the bold lettering on the side declaring SHERENFORD MAINTENANCE SERVICES. The van moved on a short ways, then made a sharp U-turn and came to park behind her. She waited until its passengers began to disembark their vehicle before leaving her own.

"Mrs. Adama?" the driver asked as she approached. Caroline took note how the four men were all dressed in work coveralls and a couple were already wore masks and goggles.

"Yes, I am." She led them to the front door, pulling the house keys from her handbag without further comment. The front door was unlocked and cracked open, the smell of mildew and dust immediately, causing Caroline and the leader to back up several steps.

The latter turned back to the van and called out "Conroy! Break out the rest of the masks!"

"Got 'em!" the blonde haired man already wearing one waved and pulled the rear doors open.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Caroline said, handing the keys to the team leader and headed back to her car. She gave the cleaning crew a last look and drove off.

Somewhere along the way home, she wasn't sure exactly where, she stopped at the traffic lights and offered a small thanks to the gods that none of them asked about why her left cheek was red and swollen. Explanations for that would have proved – embarrassing, to say the least.

_Tbc...directly ahead, if you dare!_


	38. Third Step to Resolution

_

* * *

_

Part 38: Third Step to Resolution

Kara woke in stages. Consciousness was initially nothing more than an _awareness_ of the warmth radiating within her chest and through her torso. It slowly radiated outward through her limbs and into her extremities.

With this _awareness_ eventually came actual _thought_, which bled down to 'That feels good' and 'I feel good'.

_Thought _quickly invited _memory_: 'I touched Lee' and 'Lee touched me'.

_Memory_ brought with it _detail _-- and those images were enough to cause her eyes to snap open and have her sitting up. The fact she fairly close to the edge of the mattress didn't register until she nearly tumbled over it in her haste. Only by blindly reaching out and grabbing the first solid thing she could was what kept her ass planted on the bed.

No small irony that it was Lee's leg that she grabbed, or that in doing so she startled him awake. He actually _squeaked _in a way both would have found silly in the extreme, if only both weren't so momentarily shocked into silence. They stared at each other, wide-eyed and panting for several long seconds in the early morning's early light.

"Uhhh," was all Kara could verbalize, apparently unaware of the sight she was presenting uncovered and out of sorts as she was. Lee continued to stare, not blatantly or lasciviously though, and gave a small chuckle. Kara blinked and pushed at his hip with her foot. "What?" She was answered with another chuckle, which lit a small fire of anger in her.

She pushed at his hip again, harder this time. "What?"

Lee simply shifted so he was fully on his side, balancing his head on a crooked arm and said, "My gods, but you're beautiful."

Kara immediately looked down, throwing both arms over her breasts. Lee actually laughed at this; it was a soft one to be sure, but loud enough to earn him a harsh scowl. "A little late to be modest, Kara," he pointed out, reaching out to coax her arms down. Kara held fast for a moment, then allowed herself to be led so.

She probably would've put more of a struggle were she not nearly drooling at how the comforter covering Lee's lower half had slipped to one side. His pubes were peeking out over the edge, as was the curve of his cock. He wasn't even posing, never mind offering a complete show, but it easily a hundred times more enticing than if he were.

However, something stopped her from pulling the blanket aside and giving herself a clearer look at him. "Did we --" she asked, voice dying as she tried to come up with the proper words. _Frak_ for once sounded wrong, but what else could it have been?

"Did we make love?" Lee finished for her, again startling her with how quiet, how reverent he spoke it. Kara forgot the rest of him and focused all attention into his eyes, seeing no mockery there, only open honesty. It shook her to her core.

"I -- I didn't --" she heard her voice stammer. Lee frowned ever so slightly to this.

"You didn't what?"

"I -- when I -- uh --"

Lee stared at her for another beat, then rolled his eyes. "Kara, _you_ are in charge here. That includes _here_, in this bed." He grinned in that cocky way she'd so rarely seen but loved anyway. "Just think of me as your personal body slave here."

"Gee, that's --" Kara started, only to stop again when she saw he really meant it. Of course he couldn't really _mean_ it, it was just something to say because -- because --

Her conflict must have shown because Lee again reached out and took one of her hands, holding it gently. "I mean that, Kara. You can do -- whatever you want. Whatever makes you feel safe here."

"Careful, Lee," she warned. "I'm pretty frakked up right now, last night notwithstanding. I might just --" She narrowed her eyes, bloody visions suddenly coming to mind.

"It was all of yesterday, Kara," Lee pointed out, Kara appearing surprised to hear this. He quickly pressed on. "And you can tear my fingernails out with a pair of pliers for all I care." Lee then straightened and sat up, the blanket falling completely away. Neither of them took,note of what was now in display.

Instead Lee leaned in closer, capturing her eyes and her full attention. "You can shoot me, stab me in every major organ, flay me alive, and bury me still breathing next to an anthill on Leonis in the middle of summer before I get even a little mad at you."

"C'mon, Lee," Kara scoffed.

"Okay, okay. I'll get a _lot _mad if you do all that. My point is, I don't _care_ how frakked up you think you are. I promise you I'm just as bad. Worse, probably."

"And that's supposed to _reassure_ me?"

Lee could only sigh, equal parts frustrated and frightened, realizing how this must be sounding to her. "Okay, fair point." He closed his eyes for a moment, and then stared into hers again. "Did I do anything you didn't like? Have I _ever_ done anything you didn't like?"

"No," Kara admitted after a single beat.

"What makes you think I'd start now?"

"Gee, maybe because I _killed our baby_?" The words were out of her mouth before her brain could catch up. She instinctively braced for Lee literally kicking her out of his bed for the crime.

All that hit her instead was his voice, softened to a feather's touch on her soul. "A driver speeding the wrong way -- killed our baby. It could have killed you, too."

"But it didn't," she mourned.

"No, it didn't." Lee waited until Kara looked up again. "Do you think I could have survived losing you?" Kara simply stared at him, apparently shocked at the concept, if her blank expression was anything to go by. Lee decided to press his luck a little further.

"I want our baby to be alive, too. I want you to love me again." It was a little cruel, perhaps, to use her own words, however true they may have been. Lee didn't feel any cruelty in doing so however, and there were no words he could have offered that were any better, any more true.

"I -- I --" Kara stammered, staring down at her hands now.

"Kara? Kara, please --" Lee was saying, reaching for her, drawing her close. She let him, but didn't return the embrace. At least not immediately. She instead rested her forehead on his shoulder, shuddering hard as he turned his lips into her hair.

"Five years --" he whispered to her, to the universe. "I lost you for five years -- please come home. Kara? _Please come back to me._"

His plea broke the last barrier she had erected and held fast since that day. She threw her arms around him, her anchor, and the one thing keeping her from flying entirely apart. "Oh gods," she panted, breath suddenly coming in deep, desperate gasps even as her throat closed. "Oh gods -- she's -- she's really gone!"

There was no reason for her to think the baby had been a girl. There was only the bone-deep certainty of it and Kara didn't, couldn't question it. All she knew then were her tears and a pain denied far too long. She'd never mourned. She'd run, hidden, denied, and ignored it all this time, but that time was over. She could feel Lee's nose and chin brush against her neck as he nodded.

"She's -- gone," he whispered, equally broken by it.

"Oh gods," was the last thing Kara could utter, voice choked off and tears now flowing.

They mingled with Lee's as he shuddered and choked and cried with her, mourning her -- his -- _their_ loss. And in that mourning, finally let go.

Finally began to heal.

* * *

They had drifted back to sleep at some point. Neither could remember when or which had managed to cover them with the blanket again. It was later in the day, the sun still shinning outside. Kara again woke first, finding she had shifted so the two of them were lying on their sides, face-to-face.

Lee's eyes opened just moments later. They regarded each other for an unknown span.

"I don't want a body slave," Kara told him.

"What do you want?" Lee asked in exchange.

In answer, she reached under the comforter with her right hand, groping a few seconds to find his left hand. She interlaced their fingers and drew them out. She still wore his ring, which sparkled there in the afternoon light.

Lee chest shook and shuddered. "Now?"

Kara bit her upper lip, and then moistened them with her tongue. "Forever."

Whatever else might have been said was stopped by a sharp knock on the half-open door, causing them both to start but not separate. "Lee? Kara?" Caroline's voice called out. "Are you two awake now?"

Kara blushed slightly at the question, as did Lee, who answered "Yes."

"Good. Both of you get dressed. There's someone downstairs I want you to meet." She moved off before either of them could offer a protest.

Neither did they move for a few seconds, sharing a look that quickly led to an equally mutual, tension-relieving giggle between them. "Guess we should get up," Lee observed.

"Yup," agreed Kara. Neither of them moved.

Lee tried again. "Like, right now."

"Yup." Still they didn't move.

"Think if we're really, really loud, Mom will stay away?"

Kara's eyes sparkled at the suggestion. "You want to try it?"

Lee looked as if he were seriously considering it for a moment, but then shook his head. "Not really. You?"

"Hmmm, not really."

"We'd best get up then and see whoever this is."

"I'm not sure I _can_ get up."

"Oh, yes, you can," Lee groaned as he forced himself to rise, rolling his shoulders and rotating his neck as he did. "C'mon, Thrace. I'm not facing this on my own."

Kara offered no response beyond a loud yawn, although she did roll herself about in order to get up. She looked around the floor and mutter "Aw, frak."

"What is it?"

"She must have taken my nightshirt." She huffed. "And the robe."

"Hmm," Lee hummed, eyes not making it past her bare back and shapely backside. He quickly looked away when Kara glanced back over her shoulder.

"Lee?"

"Huh?"

"Clothes? For me? Unless you'd like me to go downstairs, to your mother like this?"

"Oh, uh, right. Right, right. I've got -- I'm sure I'vegot another robe here." Heedless of his own nudity, Lee quickly moved to the closet and rooted through the hangers toward the back. Now it was Kara's turn to cast an appreciative eye over him. She had to consciously stop herself from smacking her lips at the visual feast before her.

Lee soon found what he sought and pulled out a terrycloth robe. Kara accepted the garment and quickly wrapped it around herself, her eyes not wavering from the Lee's form. Only when she caught sight of the emblem sewn into breast in a nearby mirror did her eyes leave him. "When did you stay on Cloud Eleven?" she frowned.

"Uh, let's talk about that later, okay?"

"Okay." She gave him a final once over and haughtily added, "Get some clothes on, will you, Lee? We've got company." She then turned on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving a mildly stunned Lee Adama in her wake. Lee was nevertheless quick to shake it off as he began pulling on tanks and sweatpants, equally quick to set off after her.

* * *

The guest was waiting for them in library; Caroline had met them at the bottom of the stairs and directed them both there without offering any explanation. This guest proved to be a honey-skinned woman approaching her middle years and wearing the pastel colored robes of a Temple priestess. She wore no jewelry or any kind of headgear, suggesting she was of one of the modern religious orders that preferred esthetic dress and manner to ornaments and aloofness.

Her smile was welcoming, as was her greeting. "I am Alyana Gale, Sister Resident of the Caledonian Reform Temple. Please let's all sit down." Lee and Kara did so, taking the same sofa Kara had occupied a few days earlier. Sister Gale took the high-backed chair facing the sofa and quickly rearranged her robes.

She regarded the pair before her for a moment, and said, "Your mother has already explain a good bit to me, but I'd like to go back over it, if you don't mind?" Taking their silence as agreement, Sister Gale pressed on. "I understand that you, Karissa --"

"Kara," was the immediate correction. "I go by Kara, okay?"

Sister Gale simply nodded in acceptance. "As you wish. I understand that you, _Kara_, suffered a terrible accident five years ago and fled from your family here." She turned her gaze onto Lee. "But it wasn't your loss alone, was it, Kara?"

"No," Kara agreed softly, head bowed.

"You've lived with this, not sharing it with anyone, all this time?"

"Yes." Kara hugged herself tightly. Lee nearly reached out to her, but stopped himself as she pulled even further into herself, as if she were trying to become a smaller target. He threw a warning look towards the priestess.

Sister Gage was undeterred, however. "Have you ever _accepted_ what happened, Kara?"

"I -- yes."

This elicited a nod from the priestess. "I'm relieved to hear this. More than I can say, in fact. We don't need to go into it any further -- unless either of you feel the need to broach it?" When neither of them moved, Sister Gage settled herself back into her chair. "I'm relieved."

"So, what are we going to talk about?" Lee asked.

"You're impending marriage, I suppose." Sister Gage gazed at them with an appraising eye. "Your mother mentioned you had made pledges to each other."

"We've done a frakking lot more than just that," Lee muttered, causing Kara to snicker in agreement.

"Oh?" Sister Gage's brow furrowed. "How so?"

The look that passed between the two young people communicated a host of things and a range of emotions. It apparently told the priestess something significant, although she didn't immediately press for elaboration to it. Rather she let the pair before her play out their silent communication, watching them carefully, taking in every nuance and mannerism involved.

It was Lee who started out with "We've, um --"

"Frakked," Kara finished for him with her trademark bluntness. "A lot."

"More than once?" asked Sister Gage, seemingly nonplussed at the admission.

"Yeah," Lee nodded.

"A whole frakking lot," Kara affirmed.

"That's -- interesting." The priestess' gaze lost its laser focus, her mind turning inward. For some reason this grated on Kara's nerves, leading her to clear her throat loudly.

"Something wrong, Sister?" she asked as politely as possible. Lee couldn't help but grin, Kara at that moment was sounding far more like her old self. It was -- good -- to hear. So much so he nearly missed the priestess' answer.

"I just suspect you've rendered any talk of an actual wedding ceremony moot."

Kara shook her head. "Eh, what?"

Lee was speaking at the same moment. "What? Based on old Picon law?" Both Kara and the Sister looked at him. "What?"

Kara found her voice first. "'Old Picon law'?"

"Er, yeah."

"What do you know about it, Lee?" was the question from the Sister.

"I -- um -- just the basics --"

"The -- the basics? What basics?" Kara croaked.

"Yeah," Lee nodded, glancing to the priestess for a beat, then looking back to Kara. "If an intended doesn't reject the offer -- and the couple, um --" He cleared his throat, looking not a little embarrassed. "If they -- if the couple -- um, consummate -- the relationship -- it constitutes a legal binding between them."

This last come out in a bit of a rush, with Kara staring at him slightly slack-jawed while the priestess nodded. "That's part of it," Gage began to say, only for Kara to pipe up as she looked between them.

"And that's considered _legal_? You're frakking kidding me!"

Lee tried to defend himself, saying "Kara, it didn't occur me --" Kara looked ready for another outburst, only for Gage's voice to override everything.

"That's only _part_ of it."

This silenced everyone for a full minute. Kara then asked, with the most exquisite calm and patience "What's the other 'part'?"

"An exchange between the pledged, to seal the union before the gods."

"What kind of exchange?" Lee asked.

"A separate motion from the exchange of vows, later in the ceremony, is usually held where they will drink from the same chalice cup --" She paused, noticing how quiet one of the pair had become. "Kara?" she asked.

When there was no immediate answer, Lee himself tried, even daring to physically nudge her. "Kara, what is it?"

"Um, does it _have_ to be a, um, chalice?"

"Not necessarily." The priestess gave her another appraising look. "Why?"

"Umm --"

Now it was Lee staring, slack-jawed. "Kara?" He swallowed hard. "When? H -- how?"

"The, uh, night you -- you gave me the ring. Remember?

"Yeah. When did --?" He stopped and frowned. "Wait a second."

"I knocked you out --"

"You frakking near broke my jaw."

"Yeah, yeah. I knocked you out -- and then I, uh, needed a drink --"

Lee groaned and held his head. "You're kidding me."

"Well, that tea helped -- even me out."

"Even you out? I woke up stark naked on the floor and my uniform sliced to ribbons."

"Hey! There wasn't so much as a single nick on you, was there?"

The priestess watched this exchange with rapt fascination.

"You actually drank that -- that -- stuff."

"You'd prefer I stomp your damned head through the floor?"

"Oh, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Frak you."

"You already _have_, you -- you --"

"That's -- what are you --"

"Would you two like to be alone?" Gale's calm voice silenced the room, not that either of the pair before her spared her a single look. Probably just as well.

The gods rarely looked kindly upon those who interrupted true love.

_Tbc...very, very soon._

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**

**De author seez: **_I've been debating the past day or so whether to hold out until I have the last two chapter written, or to just post these four and hope your enthusiastic reviews (hint, hint) will carry me to the finish line. I do have the last two planned out, but confess my energy has been flagging in the flurry to get this finished by the 28th. Its looking more like it'll be by next Friday as opposed to this one, but you never know. __I've nevertheless decided to put these out and see what y'all think. Please be honest, be brutal, and just lemme hear from ya!_

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_With a belated and inadequate thanks to my beta team; you guys are saints! I owe you more than I can hope to repay in a hundred lives._


	39. Final Step to Resolution

_Part 39: Final Step to Resolution_

The twenty-four hours following their 'session' with Sister Gale had been anything but calm or quiet, least of all for Lee. Between the priestess effectively certifying their –marriage -- _in writing_, no less -- right there his mother's library, followed by some further discussion that twice nearly devolved into yet another shouting match over whether or not a Temple ceremony was still necessary or even appropriate, ultimately ending with his mother coming in and feeding them all lunch (practically at knife-point).

Then it had come to yet another lengthy discussion with the priestess, a more probing one this time over obligations and expectations and intentions neither he nor Kara apparently had given that much thought to. Somewhere along the line Kara had inserted a snide comment about "being kept on a leash", which Sister Gale humorlessly noted was "acceptable" -- provided there were corresponding piercings in particular parts of his own anatomy. Lee was half-sure she was just frakking with them on that one. The way Kara eyed him after that was not a little unsettling, as were the images floating inside his own head about her.

They'd both been left wrung out and exhausted after that, sufficiently so his mother had sent them off to bed. Sister Gage had departed with the gently-worded promise/threat to return in a day or so. She needed the time to consult some more authoritative sources on scriptural law, or something to that effect. They hadn't been of a mind to pay much attention as they stumbled back upstairs and collapsed, still clothed, onto opposite sides of the bed.

Consequently he and Kara hadn't had a chance to actually _talk_ about the little, still-ticking bombshell between them. In honesty it had been a small relief to Lee that they hadn't; Kara had virtually metamorphosed before his eyes the last couple days, becoming far more the Kara he remembered than the broken creature he found in Sparta. The downside to this was the Kara of old didn't handle unexpected change terribly well, and tended to react physically _against_ it – and anyone involved in it – before calming down.

Only bone-deep exhaustion kept them apart that night. At least that was what Lee hoped it was. He really didn't want to contemplate Kara freezing him out again, not at this stage.

They slept the night through. If Kara suffered from any dreams, they didn't disturb her enough to where she woke him. Lee himself could remember none.

* * *

He woke up alone the next morning. The stab of panic that hit his gut was enough to push him out of bed and sprint downstairs. His first stop was naturally the kitchen, where he found Kara tucking into a bowl of cereal and yogurt. "Mornin'," she gummed around a mouthful.

Lee leaned against the counter, energy and balance momentarily crashing as he nodded in reply. He took a moment to study her, noting she'd changed into an old pair of his sweatpants and loose pair of tanks (also his). For some reason, this warmed him in ways that had nothing to do with oaths, pledges, or fluid exchanges.

"Uh, morning." He noticed the coffee was running, and so sauntered that direction. "Been up long?" he asked as poured himself a mug, sniffing the strong brew and trying to place its origin.

Kara swallowed her latest mouthful. "Not long."

"Sleep okay?"

"Yah."

Lee stirred in some powder creamer into his mug. "Are we gonna talk about -- it?."

Kara didn't immediately answer, taking another spoonful, and Lee chose not to press her. She declined to so much as glance in his direction while she ate; this allowed Lee to covertly study her over the rim of his mug.

She didn't appear pissed off at him, which he supposed was something to be grateful for. But then her moods weren't always the easiest to divine.

"When did you know?" Kara abruptly asked.

"Hmm?"

"About that old law?"

"Old -- oh, right. Uh, it hit me when I was coming home from the North Wing."

"The first time --"

"Uh, no. No, no. The second time, two days ago."

Kara nodded and continued studying the bowl. "How'd you -- find out about it anyway?"

Lee chuckled and rubbed his forehead. "Would you believe it was a question on _Trivial Library_?" He chuckled again when Kara's head shot up.

"You watch _Trivial Library_?"

Lee just shrugged. "I don't. Some of my squadron on _Atlantia_ does."

"Frak. Guess standards really have slipped." They both went still. "That -- that didn't come out right," Kara said, suddenly subdued.

"Oh, yes, it did," Lee countered. "And you're right. Standards have slipped. I've got ejects in my wing I wouldn't trust with a ten-mile doughnut run, never mind with a one million cybol fighter."

"Frak," was Kara's soft exclamation. "You're wingman better be good enough --"

Lee quickly cut in saying "I go through wingmen like underwear. I've never found _anyone_ else I can trust on my six." He met the skeptical glance Kara threw at him, and felt disappointed when she looked back down again.

"We flew together three times, Lee. And that was only in the Sims." He couldn't miss the grimace that followed. "It frakking near cost you your wings, remember?"

"It never came close to that, Kara. _Especially _after the scores were tallied out." As he'd hoped, this perked her interest enough to look up. "We scored Upper Blue together, Mid-Blue individually." Her eyes widened, then narrowed in suspicion.

"You farkking with me, Adama?" 'Blue' scores on Sims flights were the second-highest rating awarded. Anyone scoring at that level was, by tradition, guaranteed all-hours access to them. It was unheard of that someone who hadn't yet attended Flight School, never mind gone through Basic Flight, to score anything higher than Upper-Red (the single lowest rating possible after successfully launching, which was always a given).

Lee, however, clearly _wasn't _frakking with her. "The tapes have been archived and I'm told are trotted out for the Basic Tactics classes." He gave her a grin. "Your name's attached to at least four different maneuvers as well, three of them high-speed tactical moves that're reserved for Indigo-rated pilots." 'Indigo' was the single highest rating awarded in Sims flight. There was no qualifier attached to it; a pilot was either rated it, or they didn't.

Kara snorted. "Guess that's a pretty short list."

"Pretty short," Lee agreed. "In fact, there's only one pilot I know of who's managed to pull them off without crashing or having to call 'krypter'."

"That's encouraging."

"Aren't you going to ask?" Lee prompted after a moment.

"What?"

"Who that pilot is."

"Why? Do I know him?"

"Yeah, you know him." Lee paused meaningfully. "Pretty intimately."

Kara simply gave him a look that was at once long-suffering and barely tolerant. "Am I going to be pissed off if I see the tapes of those maneuvers of yours?"

"Probably," Lee nodded. "And technically speaking, they're _your_maneuvers. Each of them have your name on 'em." Kara gave him a sideways look, to which he began ticking the names off one hand. "The Starbuck Lateral Tri-roll, the Starbuck atmo-burn, the Apollo-Starbuck barrel-twist --"

Kara interrupted there. "I thought they all had my name only."

"Did I say that? You're name is on them, but _we_ came up with these together, remember?" Lee had to consciously hold back the laughter at the puzzlement she showed.

"We did? When?"

"On the GameDek, summer of ninety-four. Remember that?"

"Yeah," she murmured, a ghost of a smile curving her perfect lips. "I remem -- wait -- what?" The chuckle her stunned expression invited escaped him before he could tramp it down. Thankfully, Kara was clearly too distracted to notice. "You -- they -- those maneuvers shouldn't -- we never flew --" Her confusion melted away, taking Lee's amusement with it, as memory took hold. She stared at him for several long breaths.

Even though he should have been ready for it, Lee only barely managed to dodge out of the way of the bowl she'd been holding. It broke apart upon impact with the cabinets behind him, scarring the wood and showering him with porcelain and flecks of cereal. He might have worried what his mother would say, were Kara not looking ready to tear into him physically as she was verbally.

"You -- you frak!" she hissing, crouched in the breakfast nook like a predator about to pounce. "We frakking _crashed_ -- each time we tried -- an' you tried to do --"

"Kara --"

"You could've been killed, you frakking stupid --!" She was all but screaming now, propelling herself at him with fists raised and ready for mayhem. "You don't get to kill yourself, do you hear me? _Do you frakking hear me?!_"

Lee managed to dodge the first fist she threw, twisting around so he was behind her. He immediately threw both his arms around her and pinned her arms to her sides. This didn't stop her and, if anything, simply inflamed her more. "Lemme go, dammit!"

"You going to calm down?" he grunted as her heel impacted his shin, and her elbows dug into his ribs.

"Frak no! I'll kill you myself before you get to --"

"Kara! Lee! What's going on?!" Caroline Adama rushed in, watching the pair of them struggle with wide eyes, but not moving to intervene.

"Lee's trying to kill himself!" Kara declared, the absurdity of her claim momentarily stunning both Caroline and Lee. Kara herself didn't notice this until she threw her head back and managed to catch Lee's cheek with a solid 'thud'.

"Ow!" he cried stupidly, letting her go and pressing a hand to the injury. Kara spun and stared in undisguised horror.

"Oh gods I'm sorry Lee I'm sorry I'm so sorry!" She fought a short battle with herself, uncertain whether to reach out to him or not. Ultimately she settled for a middle course, reaching out but not quite daring to touch the offended area, tensing all the while for a retaliatory blow that was sure to come once Lee's head cleared.

"Ow," he muttered, wincing as he rubbed his cheek gently. "Damn you've got a hard skull."

"Look who's talking," Kara rejoined, tone brittle and aggressive.

"Explain yourselves," Caroline ordered, hoping to pre-empt still more argument between them.

"Lee's pulled bone-head stunts in his Viper," was Kara's half-shouted declaration. Caroline resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead turned to gaze at her son.

"Is that true, Lee. Have you been --" She mimicked quotation marks in the air. "-- 'pulling bone-headed stunts' while flying?" It was all she could do to keep from laughing.

Kara was clearly less amused. "This isn't funny," she ground out.

"Oh, to the contrary, Kara. It's hilarious." Caroline's folded arms and undisguised sarcasm made her feelings on the matter quite clear. "But that's hardly an excuse for you two to -- to turn my kitchen into a -- a wrestling ring!"

"We weren't -- we weren't wrestling."

"No, Lee? Then what would you call it?"

"Me trying to defend myself from flying crockery." Caroline followed his gaze down to the shattered remains on the floor near his feet. It occurred to the three of them simultaneously how dangerous it suddenly was to be barefoot there. "Frak," Lee cursed for the three of them. It was a not-very-minor miracle neither he nor Kara had stepped on any of the pieces while they'd been fighting.

"I know better than to ask what prompted all this," Caroline observed irritably. "You two, _carefully_ walk out of here and go to the library. There's some things I want to discuss with you." She sighed. "After I clean this up, of course."

"I can --" Kara tried to offer, only for Caroline to wave her off.

"No, no. You go with Lee." She retrieved a broom and dustpan from the nearby closet, irritated to see neither of her children had shifted a muscle. "Both of you. Move. _Now._" She didn't noticeably raise her voice, but the desired affect was nevertheless achieved and the pair carefully tip-toed in the opposite direction from the debris. Once back on the thick carpeting of the entryway, they hastened their steps away.

They didn't touch as they moved, but neither did they run from each other. For the moment, they were united as much by their wish to invite more of Caroline Adama's ire as by any other connection. That was incentive enough.

Once in the library, Kara plopped herself on the sofa and Lee settled himself nearby, again not close enough to touch but not that far away. Kara made no move to close the distance or to widen it. Part of it might have been how Lee instinctively sat at attention, which was the only contrast to how she herself was sitting with her legs drawn up and hugging them to her. Gods knew both of them were fairly radiating raw anxiety at that point it would have taken a _very_ brave soul to try piercing that atmosphere.

That, or Caroline Adama, riding the tail-end of a head of steam.

She marched into the library and stared down at her eldest with something just shy of contempt. "I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?" she queried, not specifying which (if either) of them she was actually addressing. Kara looked like she wanted to shrink even further into herself. Lee felt himself tense, fight-or-flight instinct coming to the fore, as was the urge to step between his mother and Kara.

Caroline pre-empted this by giving him a quelling glance. "God's know we've all been under considerable stress the last several days. But that doesn't excuse the two of you coming to blows over -- whatever you were fighting about this time."

"We weren't fighting," Lee put in.

"No?"

"No, Mom."

"Your cheek suggests otherwise."

"You saw what happened, Mom. C'mon!"

"I'm not sure _what _I saw, Lee. Kara? Anything to say here?"

"Nothin' you want to hear," came the muffled answer.

"Kara," Caroline sighed. "You've never told me anything any I actually _want_ to hear. I doubt I'd know what to do with myself if you actually _started _doing so." Lee looked at his mother with a frown, then noticed Kara mirroring the action. This in turn caused Caroline to actually smile.

This didn't alleviate the tension radiating there in the slightest.

"This isn't a joke, Mom," Lee observed with a frown.

"Do you see me laughing, either of you? My gods, I'm terrified to leave you two alone now for fear I'll find blood on the walls." Caroline shook her head. "Not that I should expect anything else."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kara asked after a moment. Caroline didn't' answer immediately, but instead looked down at a blue file folder she'd been holding, something Lee knew neither he nor Kara had noticed beforehand.

"Lee? Would you give Kara and I a moment, please?"

Lee nodded dumbly as he stood and, exchanging a confused look with Kara before turning and exiting into the hallway. He immediately kicked himself for choosing the interior door as opposed to the one leading to the patio; Caroline had looked sufficiently distracted she'd likely wouldn't have noticed, and if nothing else he'd have been able to keep watch thought the bay windows.

As it was, all he could do was lean back against the convenient wall, close his eyes, and try with considerable might _not_ to imagine the worst possible scenarios for as long as humanly possible. There was no way to accurately measure how long he stood there, save it was long enough for his knees start to ache from being locked tight for so long. Would the psychic pains he suffered were as easily relieved as a few deep knee bends and rolls of the shoulders.

Ultimately Lee let himself slide to the floor, staring at the door over his bent knees, shoulders sagging from the partial success in _not imagining_ the worst. He was successful in that no particular details came to mind, which merely meant that literally _anything_ could be happening in that room. Lee was therefore attentive of the slightest bump or cry or any noise whatsoever that might drift out. The fact he could just make out voice being raised, but the words themselves too muffled to comprehend, didn't help his nerves any.

Neither for that matter did the end result hardening in his mind into a bedrock, absolute, gods-ordained certainty. Whatever was being said in that room, whatever his mother was speaking, Kara was going to --

This line of thought was abruptly terminated by Kara's voice very distinctively declaring "You bitch!"

Lee blinked and needed a second to process this. The profanity didn't shock him. Realizing who the target was did. He didn't even try to reason it out; instead quickly getting back to his feet and all but kicking the library's door in. The sight that greeted him only added to the surreal quality if overall situation: Kara standing near the study desk, face wild with rage and a book in each upraised hand, while his mother was pressed against another bookshelf, her own hands upraised to fend off the tomes Kara was hurling at her.

Unsure who he should try to defend, Lee opted for blind instinct, rushing forward and for the second time that day threw his arms around his wife, bracing himself for her turning that wild energy onto him. He was therefore completely unprepared for her dropping her impromptu weapons and forcefully spinning herself around and burying herself into his embrace. His neck felt damp as she pressed her face there.

"Make her go away, Lee. Please!" was her muffled, desperate plea.

Lee again needed a second to process what he heard, looking up and frowning towards his mother. A thousand questions flittered through his head, but the words that came out were "Mom, go." When Caroline opened her mouth, presumably to plead her own case, Lee added with greater force "Please, Mom, just _go_."

He managed to hold back a sigh of relief as Caroline slowly backed away and exited out the patio door, shutting it quietly behind her. There was no relief to be had, as Kara was shaking like a leaf and felt ready to collapse entirely. Lee held back his own questions and ruthlessly tramped down the urge to shake answers out of her.

Instead, he simply held onto her, touch gentle but unbreakable.

"Is she gone?" Kara ultimately asked in a quiet, broken voice.

"Yeah. She's gone." The shaking started in earnest after that, worse than anything Lee had known before. "Kara?" he whispered into her hair. "Kara, talk to me. What is it? What did she say?" A sharp shake of the head was her only answer. "Kara, please, talk to me. What did she --" Lee felt his shoulder vibrate as she muttered something. "Um, what was that?"

"I'm just a dog," Kara hissed more forcefully, even as her grip on him slackened noticeably.

Lee could only groan, more in irritation than anything else. "Where did you get that from?" He quickly thought over the various encounters they'd had with his cousins, Maat and Arctarus in particular, trying to recall if either had let slip the open secret of their opinion of Kara. But nothing came to mind. Had they found her after she'd run off?

Kara was speaking again, voice tightening with each word and all but demanding his full attention. "Your mom," she hiccupped. "She -- she hired this guy -- after I le -- after I ran -- that's what that folder is --" Lee took a second to eye the blue file, which was presently on the floor at their feet, its contents scattered all over.

"She hired him to do what?" he asked, feeling certain he knew where this was going.

"To find me, apparently. Damned if I know why --" Kara sniffed and steadied herself. "He didn't, obviously -- probably for the best, right? But he -- he was close -- an' your mom, she just decided I was a -- a mongrel and didn't -- wasn't important enough --"

_So that's where they got it from_, Lee grimaced, quickly suppressing the flash of anger towards his mother. He knew anger was useless for them right then; Kara certainly didn't need it. He opted for what he hoped would be distracting questions, drawing her attention to him and away from the old insult. "How'd you -- how did you find out?"

"It was on the top page," she snarled. "A frakkin' -- progress report! It said 'I can't find your, quote, _mutt_, unquote' in big block letters!"

_So much for distracting her._ Lee again grimaced and thought quickly. "I don't care," he ultimately declared, to which Kara responded with a disbelieving snort.

"She's your mother, Lee," she added, as if this were a final judgment. Lee stared at her, momentarily stunned. Then the wheels in his head started working again and her words made a perverse sort of sense. Despite himself, Lee recognized - at least broadly - where Kara was coming from. The pronouncements of mothers were, to her mind and upbringing, nothing short of the-Truth-of-the-Gods.

Lee tried to sympathize, but ultimately couldn't; Caroline hadn't invested the energy needed to break him as thoroughly as Socrata had Kara. There was no way to explain the intricate levels parental abuse and childhood trauma to her, not in the little time he knew he had, so Lee decided upon a simpler course. "Kara? Kara, listen to me, okay?" He took a breath and plunged on. "She's not my mother. She hasn't been my mother in a long time."

His wife stilled, then tried to pull away. "That's not --"

He refused to release her. Not there and then, and certainly not over this. "It's true, Kara. She lost any claim on me yarens ago. I don't give a shit what she says or thinks about you." Daring greatly, he cupped her face in his hands and stared into her hardened, shinning eyes. "_You're_ the only family I have now."

"What about Zak?" she asked, voice flat.

"_What _about Zak? He's a grown man. I'm his brother, not his father." Lee swallowed something thick in his throat. "Its past time I actually _acted_ like it."

"Lee --"

"You're not a dog, Kara. You aren't some _pet project_. Not to _me_, and I'm the only one you should be worried about."

It was a mockery of laughter that rattled through her throat. "Oh, yeah?" Disbelief suddenly replaced all the oxygen in the atmosphere. "Why's that?"

"Well for one thing, you're my _wife_. Remember this?" He reached down and took her right hand in his, entwining their fingers as they might present to a Priestess at Temple. "You looked into my eyes and said 'forever'. Remember?"

"I -- you can't --"

Not releasing her hand, Lee stepped closer. The cold sweat that suddenly beaded her brow was a wonderful - and surreal - counterpoint to the hot energy radiating from himself; they were so perfectly in synch, so intuitively in complimentary opposition, it was frakking insane.

"What I _can't _do is live without you," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I've tried it. It doesn't _work _for me." His nostrils flared. "It doesn't work for you, either.

"I'm not --" Kara tried to protest, the words dying in her throat, stillborn.

"I don't _care_, Kara. Don't you get that yet?" All that heat and steam he'd been running on suddenly dissipated. "Please," he continued, voice suddenly quavering. Frak, did this mean he was going to start begging now? "_Please_ don't run from this." Yeah, he was begging, not that he cared at that point. He'd willing get down on his knees if that's what it took.

"_Don't run from me again._"

Kara didn't speak, didn't respond, and simply stared at him. Her eyes gave away nothing of her thoughts or feelings. For all he knew, he'd just signed his own death warrant, because he would frakking die on the spot if she took that ring off --

"Promise me --" she started, only to choke on whatever was coming next.

"Promise -- what?"

"Promise me -- its -- this -- its forever."

_I promise_ wouldn't have begun to be adequate and Lee knew it. What he didn't know, didn't have immediately at hand, were words that _were_equal to what was being asked. He wasn't allowed time to think any up either, as there was a knock on the library's door, which opened before he could tell whoever it was to frak off.

Lee spun about so as to shield Kara from whoever it was, somehow managing to keep ahold of Kara's hand as he did, mouth opening to give the intruder the dressing down he'd mastered as DCAG on the _Atlantia_.

He managed to stop himself from uttering one syllable at the sight of Admiral Kennett Waynes standing in the doorway. "Lieutenant Adama," the Admiral nodded. "Your mother said I could find you in here."

It took Lee another beat to remember to come to attention and snap off a salute with his right hand; his left remained entwined with Kara's, who pressed close against his back. "Admiral Waynes, Sir."

"Stand at ease, Lieutenant. This is an unofficial visit." He paused and looked over Lee's shoulder. "Is that Lieutenant Thrace?"

Kara waited a moment before moving to stand beside Lee, letting go of his hand just long enough to snap off a salute. "Its, um, Adama -- I guess -- Sir." She quickly dropped her hand and entwined it with Lee's again. There was no question of the intent behind the gesture, or the meaning. Lee actually felt a bit faint at hearing her speak her married name.

To his credit, Admiral Waynes took this revelation in stride, asking them with an upraised brow "Well, congratulations then. May I ask when this happened?"

Kara dryly said "Six yarens ago, apparently." If anything, her grip on Lee's hand became even tighter.

"Hmm," the Admiral hummed and regarded them both. "Has this been legally certified?"

Lee blinked at the question, puzzled. "Yesterday."

"You waited six seasons to have it signed off?"

"Um, we -- we --" Lee struggled to explain. Kara swooped in to the rescue.

"We didn't realize we'd performed a civil service recognized by Picon law at the time," she said. "Lee was drunk at the time and I was, well, distracted."

"I'm sure. Six yarens, eh? That makes some sense." The Admiral cleared his throat and looked about the room as if seeing a collection of books for the first time. "I have a favor to ask, Lieutenant." When neither of them spoke, he looked back at them with a frown. "Ah, right," he said after another beat of silence, recognizing the conundrum of having two Lieutenants in the room, both answering to the name 'Adama'.

"Which of us were you addressing, Sir?" Lee requested.

"Both of you, I suppose." The Admiral sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "As I said, this an unofficial visit, but it does touch on some -- sensitive issues." He looked directly at Kara. "It actually involves you, personally."

Kara naturally refused to quail or wilt under his stare. "What sort of 'sensitive issues' are we talking about, Sir?"

"I'd rather discuss them with you privately." Waynes paused, then quickly put in "If that's acceptable to you both, that is."

"Ah," Kara nodded, Lee echoing both the noise and gesture a microsecond after. Lee turned them so they were face-to-face.

"You okay talking to him?" he asked her softly.

"Dunno. Am I?"

"Kara," Lee hissed.

"I'm serious, Lee. I -- I don't know what I'm thinking --"

They stared into each other's eyes, a host of doubts in her's meeting and smashing the certainty and confidence in his. She took strength from this, enough to be able to nod abruptly and say "I'll listen to him."

"Don't agree to anything."

"I'll just listen," she repeated. "No decisions without you. Promise."

Lee stared at her a second more, then turned to speak. "I'll be outside if you need me," he said aloud, giving her hand a final squeeze and releasing it. "Admiral," he nodded, moving to the door. His hand was on the ornate doorknob when a thought hit him, hard enough to spin him around like a top.

He addressed Kara directly. "What you asked earlier? I'll always be on your six, Kara. _Always_." He prayed, fervently she understood what was being said. Her answering nod confirmed it.

Lee let himself out, managing not to jump at the sight of his mother standing there, hugging herself and looking nervous. She had every reason to be. "What does Admiral Waynes want?" she asked without preamble.

"Apparently to discuss, quote, 'sensitive issues', unquote."

"You left her in there alone?" Caroline sounded well and truly outraged, reaching for the doorknob and looking ready to charge in. Lee's arm shot straight out, effectively barring her path. When he refused to move, Caroline stepped back to look at her son. "What do you think you're playing at Lee?"

"She doesn't need to see you right now. An' I _definitely_ don't want you around her right now."

Caroline stared at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted a second and third head. "Lee," she tried again, trying to sound reasonable. "You don't know Admiral Waynes like I do."

"And I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she sputtered.

"It means I've always wondered where Maat got off calling Kara a 'stupid mutt', quote unquote." He took a deliberate half-step closer, coming fully into her personal space. Caroline instinctively shrinking back. "Never once occurred to me I should have asked _you_ about it."

"Lee -- I --"

"_Don't_, Mom. Don't even try to explain or justify it, okay?" Lee had to physically strain to collect himself. The last several days had worn his nerves to their collective roots; one nudge the wrong way and he'd very possibly explode. The effort to calm down left him a little dizzy and in need of fresh air. Or at least air that he wasn't sharing with Caroline Olympiaz Darden Adama.

"I'm going upstairs to get dressed and pack a bag. Then, when they're finished in there, Kara and I are leaving for -- awhile."

Caroline blinked as if he'd just slapped her with a freshly-caught fish. "Whu -- where --"

Lee however was oblivious to her distress, and felt no need to enlighten her of his (admittedly vague) plans. "And don't even _think_of going in there while they're talking," he threw this over his shoulder as he turned and hustled down the hall and up the stairs. He broke into a full-out run to his bedroom, pulling on his dress blues while simultaneously retrieving a sports bag from the closet and grabbing several pairs of sweats, tanks, socks, and a pair of hiking boots. The last were for Kara as they were the first pair of footgear that came to hand. He also grabbed a hoodie sweatshirt for her, completely serious about them fleeing at the first opportunity.

Only when he was zipping up the bag did it occur to him what an absolute idiot he'd demonstrated being, having abandoned his self-designated post like he had. He'd left Kara _alone_, with a man whose reputation for manipulation reached throughout the fleet! What the frak had he been _thinking_?

Simple enough answer: he _hadn't _been thinking. Rather he'd reacted like a petulant teen to a playground taunt; the fact said taunt had come from his mother and weren't directed at him didn't less the sting any. If anything, it propelled him through the house and back to the main floor at reckless speed. He in fact very nearly took the library's doors off its hinges – no small feat – pushing his way into the library.

Raw anxiety must have dulled his senses rather than sharpened them, otherwise he wouldn't have been standing there, chest heaving like a Gemenon preacher, staring at the mildly-surprised flag officer. Said flag officer being the only occupant in the room and busy with the papers in his now open briefcase.

"Lieutenant?" Admiral Waynes said, eyebrow raised.

Lee immediately snapped to attention, eyes still roaming throughout the room. It looked no worse than when he'd left, but similarly there was no sign of --

"Your -- ahem --" The Admiral could have been chuckling or genuinely clearing his throat as he spoke. There really wasn't any way to tell. He tried again saying "Your wife is out on the patio, Lieutenant." Lee immediately looked towards doors leading there, noting they were slightly ajar.

The Admiral continued speaking. "You may want to take a blanket to her. It's getting a little nippy." He put a large envelope into Lee's hands. "Have her read this at some point."

"Sir?" Lee could only stare at the item in confusion.

"Just -- just have her read it. That's all I ask." Admiral Waynes stepped around the still befuddled Lieutenant was nearly out the door when Lee shook himself and turned to face him.

"Sir? When do you want me to report in?"

Waynes paused for a moment, rubbing his forehead. "Keep your pocket wireless handy. We'll call you in if need be." With that, he departed from sight and off in search of either the front door or his mother. Lee frankly didn't care one way or the other.

Tucking the envelope under his arm, Lee grabbed up a woven quilt from the back of the sofa and exited onto the patio outside. Kara was sitting on the steps leading to the house's wide back yard, staring off into the woods beyond. "Kara?" he called to her softly, so as not to surprise her. She said nothing, but scooted over slightly for him to settle down beside her.

Lee took the invitation to heart and sat down, draping the quilt over her shoulders. She didn't lean towards him or even glance his way, but neither did she pull away. Lee decided to take his victories where he could and left it alone. "I'm not going to apologize for her," he said, keeping his eyes forward. When she didn't respond, he tried again. "What did Admiral Waynes want?"

He caught her single shoulder shrug out of the corner of his eye. "To take me into protected custody. Some crap about you threatening to kill me." She snorted. "What's new, right?"

"Did you -- do you want to --?"

"After what your mother -- after today?" Kara shrugged again. "I'm not sure I want to be an Adama."

"Fair enough," Lee nodded, then snickered. "I'm not sure I want to be one myself now. Suppose I could always change my name to Thrace."

"Yeah, but I thought you wanted me to be an Adama."

"I just want _you_, Kara. I don't care what your name is."

Now it was her turn to snicker. "How about I ask them to take us both into Protected Custody? New identities, the works."

"New city," Lee grinned. "Nobody knows us or our family."

"Little house in the Plans. Picket fence."

"A porch swing. Two car garage."

"You could open that bar you used to talk about."

"You could -- um --" Lee found himself drawing a blank as to what Kara's role in this happy little daydream could be. If anything, that brought him crashing back to earth.

There was nothing remotely humorous to the grin that briefly graced his face. "Ever since I -- ever since I found you, I've been scared -- absolutely scared shitless that you'd just -- just disappear on me again. I -- gods, Kara. I've -- imagined --" He bowed his head, trying to make sense of the furball of thoughts and impulses pounding in his skull.

Kara slowly, calmly reached out and took his hand again. There was no hesitation or uncertainty in her touch, despite her refusing to meet his eyes. This simple contact was enough to silence the turmoil in his mind and heart. Lee had to literally fight the urge to wrap his arm about her shoulder, something in her hunched posture warning him off.

Instead he glanced skywards, noting it was now late afternoon, fast approaching twilight. Nice as it was for them to be together like this, quiet and at relative (for them) peace, Lee recalled his original purpose for rushing from his room. "C'mon," he said gruffly, standing. He tugged on her hand, urging her to stand.

"What is it?"

"We're leaving. Now."

Kara frowned, but let him lead her back into the house. Once they were in the library, he shut the door behind them, then knelt down to retrieve the duffel he'd hastily packed. "Going somewhere?" she asked, voice cooling.

He gave her a hard look. "_We_are going," Lee corrected as he stuffed Wayne's envelop into it, then pulling out socks, the boots and hoodie. "Put these on," he directed, handing her the clothes.

Kara looked at the items for a beat, then took them and herself over to the couch. "Where are _we_going, then?" she asked as she slipped the footgear on and quickly laced up the boots.

"A hotel. Anywhere. We just -- we need some space from here." _From her_, he silently added. When Kara didn't immediately respond, momentarily distracted with struggling the sweatshirt on, Lee stated "It'll just be until our house is ready in a day or so."

The sigh from Kara was equal parts disbelief and wonder. "A house." She shook her head as she zipped the sweatshirt up. It was clearly half a size too large, but provided the necessary covering.

"_Our_ house," Lee corrected, grabbing her right hand. "Forever, remember?"

"I do," Kara affirmed quietly. "And after that?"

Lee looked at her, trying to gauge her meaning. "After that -- is for us to figure out together."

Kara said nothing more, allowing Lee to lead her out of library and down the hall. The boots weren't the most comfortable fit, but they served. She wondered what they'd do for clothes once they arrived at wherever it was. Lee's bag wasn't that large and wasn't likely to hold a lot; maybe he was planning on them going _all natural_for awhile.

That not-unpleasant thought was on a repeating loop by the time they reached the foyer. Lee was opening the door when Caroline Adama's voice called out to them from across the floor. "Lee? Kara?"

Lee tensed but refused to turn around. He tried to hurry them out, Kara remained still, halting their progress. "Kara --" he growled.

Not releasing his hand, Kara turned to face the woman who confused and confounded her. Looking at her standing there, so clearly nervous and nearly wilting under her gaze, Kara found it hard to reconcile this sight with the judgmental and remote creature that frakking file implied.

Kara found herself speaking without prompting or plan. "I need time, Caroline. You said -- you've said you know you do penance for past wrongs, remember? You want to atone? To help me? Start by giving me -- giving us -- that. Okay?"

The older woman looked as if she might try to argue, or cry. Ultimately, she gave a single sharp nod. As acknowledgement for her concession, Kara added "We'll call later. I promise." She turned back and met Lee's angry gaze directly, almost daring him to contradict her.

He said nothing, instead led the way across the threshold and down the path to the street.

It was Kara who paused just long enough to pull the door shut behind her, then quickly matched pace with him, standing shoulder to shoulder with him was they walked. Their hands remained joined between them, as it should be.

Neither looked back once, leaving that other life behind them. They moved without pause or hesitation, off into the lengthening shadows of the day and the city beyond them, and were soon swallowed by both.

to be concluded...


	40. Other Lives

_Part 40: Other Lives_

Lee Adama woke from the light sleep he'd drifted into with the sensation of something wet and persistent and invasive being dragged over his face. Thinking it was nothing but a welcome and pleasant dream, Lee let the wet thing travel up along his chin and jaw, lavishing attention to his cheek --

-- poking into his ear and issuing a loud "Yap!"

"Frak!" Lee cursed, sitting up and spinning about to confront his tormentor. Where he'd irrationally hoped to see green eyes staring up at him, instead he was regarded with a pebble-sized pair of dark orbs.

"Muffett, dammit!"

At the sound of its name, the Daggett Vole let loose another "Yap!" Lee winced, wondering for the umpteenth time how such a small creature could make such a noise.

"How'd you get out of your cage, you little --" Lee groused as he picked up the small animal, cradling it in one hand and keeping it in place with the other. The fuzzy rodent nearly disappeared under his hand as he carried across the bedroom to the clear-walled enclosure sitting on a television tray. There was a piece of electrical tape across one wall with the words 'Muffet's Mansion' stenciled on it.

Opening the top panel, Lee carefully reached in and allowed the Daggett to scamper off his palm and onto the old newsprint that lined the bottom. It scampered around, as if exploring its enclosure for the first time, ultimately racing to the exercise wheel. Lee could only shake his head, silently envying the energy the little creature displayed on a daily basis. Whatever fool said Daggetts were 'low maintenance' obviously hadn't owned one.

He glancing at the clock and saw it was 0540. There was no point in going back to bed, especially given what day it was, so Lee moved to the dresser and pulled out running shorts and some old tanks. He'd started to let himself go a little to pot immediately following the visit from Admiral Waynes and his -- their -- subsequent decision. Was it really just four monens ago that all that happened?

Shaking that distracting thought off, Lee went to the closet and got his well broken-in running shoes. If he was going to make it through the refresher for his flight status, which was scheduled to start in barely two and a half hours, he'd need to toughen up.

Lee let himself out of his small house on Archon Path and proceeded to jog and an even pace. No sense in exhausting himself too quickly, especially given how little sleep he'd been getting. He actually snickered at the thought, wondering why it should prove so difficult for him to actually sleep alone _now_, especially given all the years he'd been doing so previously.

He of course knew the answer to that one, but was damned to Tartarus before he'd let himself dwell over it. _Especially_ once he was back in the cockpit.

* * *

Eight Hundred Fifty-five hours found Captain Lee Adama, pilot in the Colonial Fleet (on temporary assignment planetside), sitting in Briefing Room X-ray Four in the Auberman Building, on the campus of Delphi Flight Academy. He was in the company of eleven other pilots, ages and dispositions varying wildly, and was one of the few actually sitting at the ready. The rest lounged, slouched, or otherwise clearly communicated their displeasure at being there.

Captain Adama was not unaware of the appraising looks he was getting from the two female pilots present, one of whom look old enough to be his mother youngst sister. Not that she or the other one were hard on the eyes; in younger, more foolish days, he might have even returned their interest.

Those days were long passed.

It was Captain Adama who was first on his feet when Major Jeff Gullen, Senior Flight Instructor, entered the room. The rest of the class were a little slower in coming to attention, but were all soon on their feet and standing.

"Stand at ease," the Aerelon native waved carelessly. The class did as directed, most (but not all) opening binders and having their pens in hand. "You all know why you're here," the Major drawled, giving them all only a cursory look. "I don't need to remind you how your continued Flight Status depends upon your successful completion of this refresher. If you wash out, you can re-up in six monens, but I doubt any of you want to wait that long. End of speech."

He cleared his throat. "I'll now turn you over to your class' instructor. Any questions or concerns, direct them there."

The door from the opposite side of the room opened, causing all of them – save Captain Adama – to turn quickly in that direction. The Captain himself simply wrote the date and time in the upper corner of his note pad, then turned all attention the podium before them. The Major had slipped out of the room, clearing the way for the instructor, who raked them over with a gaze that was nothing short of _withering_.

She opened with a simple introduction. "My superiors call me Captain Thrace."

She let her gaze linger on the trio sitting in the third row, one of whom had exchanged an unguarded grin with another. "Junior officers call me _Sir_." Her tone made it clear that three of them were, in her eyes now, several steps below that particular rung on the ladder.

The two females and two bulky specimens sitting on the far left of the first and third rows were next to suffer her semi-direct attentions. Her gaze wasn't quite hostile, but neither was accepting.

"Pilots call me _Starbuck_."

She let that one sink in, clearly relishing the undivided attention now being paid her; some of it was admiration, some of it borderline hostile. Amazing how quickly one could build a reputation.

Ultimately, after dismissively looking over the remainder of her class, Captain Kara Thrace deigned to meet the eyes of Captain Lee Adama. That contact lingered for a single timeless, nova-hot heartbeat, during which she declared "You -- _all_ of you -- may call me God. _Understood?_"

Twelve voices declared in unison "Yes, God."

Lee Adama's was loudest of all as he shared a secret smile with his wife.

* * *

"There are the lives every person  
lives every day, and those  
other lives they dream of living.

"There are the lucky few for whom  
those two lives overlap, mingle,  
and make something richer.

"And there those blessed few  
for whom those two other lives,  
and those who dwell in both,  
are one in the same."

-- The archon Longynus, _"Meditations on the Mortal Divine"_

Fin.

**End Credits: **_No story is written by the author alone. I thank the following, each of whom contributed mightily to this 142,000+ word monster I unknowningly created:_

_My beta team of parker, dm, karen, and nicole (not their real names, but handles to protect their privacy)._

_Baciami, gatelover, Sarah LoTuS, and the rest who've reviewed and offered endless encouragement._

_Maevenly, whose scathing reviews pointed the way to bring this to a close. I'd still be lost but their blistering critique._

_kiss1971, who was the first to address Kara by her (presumably) proper name, which I copied here._

_Cranberry Jei, who came up with the sneakiest way imaginable to marry the pilots, which I sorta/kinda copied here._

_Ammonite, who provided much needed insight into pain and emotional maturity (plus inspiriation for a little fuzzy someone)._

_Choosing Sarah, who first explained to us how the Colonial Flight Academy scored its Sim flights._

_setivalen, for strength and challenge and general cheer._

_Pygmymuse, who challenged me and pushed this story on without even knowing it._

_The Sidhe, ditto._

_Jason Thomas, ditto._

_JaneAus10, ditto._

_Tracyj23, ditto._

_Katee Sackhoff and Jamie Bamber, need I say more?_

_Ron, David, and the writing staff at R&D TV, ditto._

_BonnyAngel‏, who got me hooked on "Sid Mier's Alpha Centaur". _

_Danielle G. K. C******, with whom I'd happily drink from the same chalice (and did)._

_You and many more made this. Hope you enjoyed the ride._


	41. Coda

**De author seez: **_Believe it or not, the (as yet untitled) sequel to "Other Lives" is already in pre-production. Here's some test footage for your enjoyment. Consider it one of those annoying codas you get after the credits finish rolling in the theater these days._"Galactica LSO, this is Viper two nine nine gulf echo. Requesting approach."

* * *

"_Viper eight seven seven, Galactica. Vector one-one-point to the horizon."_

"Vector affirmative. Set-conn?"

"_Set Condition is three."_

"Roger that. Approach vector confirmed."

"_Viper eight seven seven, you are cleared for approach. Speed one seven five, port bay."_

"Port bay, affirmative."

"_Checkers green. Call the ball."_

"I have the ball. Commencing final approach. Reducing speed to point-two-five to burn."

_Funny how you never forget some things_, Starbuck snickered to herself as Glactica's landing pod approached. How to conduct a landing approach while flying on manual was thankfully among those little tidbits. This was trickier than it actually looked on the outside: it meant the pilot had to bring their bird in to settle _directly_ onto the dock elevator using just eyes and instruments.

Given the elevator's platform was just over 11 meters long and seven meters wide, with the landing pod itself being nearly 60 times as long and 15 times as wide, it made for a bit of a challenge to follow the navigational lights that made up the 'ball' _and_ line one's bird up perfectly with what was otherwise a custom-fit platform.

Yet Starbuck easily brought her shiny new Mark VII onto the correct heading, keeping the hyper-reactive nose even with the landing deck, and fired her lateral thrusters so the plane's own momentum would bring her into land as smooth as if her guided by the hand of Zeus himself. The instant she felt the landing gear touch down, Starbuck hit the nose thrusters in tandem with dropping her wing flaps. This effectively 'pushed' the plane to settle on the deck as surely as if she'd hit an old-fashioned arrestor cable and killed all inertia.

She felt the telltale hum of the magnet plates in the landing struts kick in as the elevator began is brief descent. Anxious as she was, _excited_ as she was, Starbuck restrained herself from undoing the catches to her helmet and gloves. No sense in taking a foolish risk or breaking some minor regs her first hour aboard.

She knew herself well enough that she'd be doing all that and more before the day was out.

Instead, Starbuck sat patiently in her plane as it was lowered into the hanger deck. She winced a bit at the powerful lighting that flooded the place; nearly six hours in the cockpit, with only her instruments and helmet providing any illumination against the void of space, had left her a little on the photosensitive side.

Blinking away both tears and illusory spots, she flipped the necessary switches to shut her bird down as the elevator finished its descent. Giving her instruments a final once-over, satisfied she hadn't forgotten anything, Starbuck popped the canopy seals and shoved it forward. One of the knuckledraggers on the deck pushed a step-ladder to stand beside the plane as she pulled herself up and out of the cockpit, pausing long enough to open the metal colar at her neck and pull off her helmet and gloves.

The slight tremor in her legs as she descended the ladder had nothing to do with simple fatigue and Starbuck had to fight the urge to look all around and gape and droll like a rook on their first deployment (conveniently overlooking how, technically speaking, that's exactly what she _was_). Instead she looked directly at the CPO standing before her and mirrored the parade ground worthy salute he gave her.

It would later occur to her that normal protocol dictated a Section Head or the DCAG should greet a newly arrived pilot, not one of the deck crew. Kara decided not to immediately question it and just asked the traditional question of "Permission to come aboard?"

"Er, granted, ma'am. Uh, welcome aboard," the Chief stumbled. He was a beefy one, with an accent she couldn't immediately place. "CPO Tyrol, ma'am."

"Captain Thr -- uh, Adama." Kara automatically emphasized the second syllable to her married name. It had become something of a habit, a way to muddy a connection that seemed to cause endless complications for herself and her family these days.

_tbc..._


End file.
